The King and I
by DocHollidaysGal85
Summary: 17 yr old Floaty McGongle is Pulitzer's messenger & is doing all she can to help the newsies with their strike. When Jack brings her to Brooklyn to meet Spot Conlon, Floaty's life is turned upside down & she soon learns what Brooklyn wants, Brooklyn gets.
1. Meeting Brooklyn's King

_**Disclaimer: Disney owns all the characters (except for Floaty, Lily, Floaty's father, and Trench, who all belong to DimensionalTraveller). I own nothing. **_

_**(A/N: Hi everyone, I'm writing this as a gift for my friend, DimensionalTraveller. She helped me out after my cousin's passing and I really wanted to find a way to say thanks, so here it is. :-) This is a prologue to her story, "Tears from the Moon." I'm not sure how well I got the newsies down (I've seen the movie once and have depended on fanfictions and quote pages after that, LOL.) So, here is the prologue to tears from the moon. I've also added in some historical information (listed below). So here is chapter 1.)**_

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_**(Real Life Facts in this chapter: Joseph Pulitzer helped to raise funds to finish the construction of the Statue of Liberty; Brooklyn was considered to be part of Kings County until 1898.)**_

Life was filled with good times and bad times – as the age-old-wisdom stated, wherever there is light, darkness will soon follow. That's a true statement, take it from me, I know. My life has been filled with ups and downs, goods and bads, lies and truths. The best time of my life was when I had Spot and I's daughter, Katrina. She's such a beautiful baby, hearing her cry now I wish I could go to her. But I can't, my body feels so heavy and my head hurts from where Oscar hit me. The wooden floor is cold beneath me; my vision begins to fade and my life flashes before my very eyes….

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My very first memory takes place in the small fishing town of Claddagh, Ireland. I'm staring down at my mother's stone grave marker: Isabella Antoni D.O.B. Unknown – June, 1883. Beloved wife and mother. That's all I know about my mother, other than the fact she was an Italian beauty who happened to be the younger sister of a powerful crime lord named Trench Antoni, (no one knows his real first name). Behind my mother's tombstone is a wall made of flat rocks of different shapes and sizes, but it's not the wall that had my attention back then, it was my heart broken father.

My father had always been a tall and proud man with bright red hair that curled in on itself, as mine does. He had beautiful sea green eyes and a face full of freckles. Many people confused him for a young Leprechaun. I remember him looking down at me, past his long nose that ended with a sharp point, "We're going back to America now, Honey….There is nothing left for us here now that your mother is in Heaven."

That is my only memory of Ireland, besides for when we were climbing onto a horse drawn cart with hay and straw on the bottom of it. I remember seeing an empty swing swaying back and forth in the gentle sea breeze. I also remember hearing my father say my mother was in her swing saying good bye to us. I remember very little of the boat ride; the only thing I can truly remember is a bad storm, and then seeing the Statue of Liberty for the first time. I also remember hearing the captain of the ship say it was thanks to Joseph Pulitzer the statue was standing. At the time, I didn't know who Joseph Pulitzer was, but little did I know that many years later I would be in his employment until the day I died.

My childhood wasn't bad, but it wasn't the greatest either. My father was a good and kind man with a kind disposition and good sense of humor. Even though we moved around a lot to avoid my wicked uncle (as my father called Trench), he somehow managed to still smile and laugh. My father worked in a local furniture factory until I was eight, when he began working in a steel mill and was one of the men who helped tend to the fires under the giant basins of liquid steel. A year later, four men carried him through the apartment door, he was badly burned and a doctor had told the men my father's health was all in the Good Lord's hands.

I was terrified of losing the only family I had left. While my father spent the next few weeks sleeping, his body trying to heal from the deadly burns, I began working as a chimney sweep girl. I was a small child, a runt as my boss called me, so I was able to climb up the chimney-peak and clean all the way up. Each afternoon that I came home I would walk over to my father's sleeping form in terror he wouldn't wake up. To my relief, he would open his eyes.

"How was your day, my beautiful lass?" He would ask softly as he stroked his thumb down my cheek and pulled me into a feather light hug. I knew better than to lean on him too much, the burns hurt him terribly.

"It was good, father," I would always say. I never would tell him the truth. I would never tell him how my boss overworked all his chimney sweepers, and how the leader of the kids – Dusty – had gone missing, and his body was found in an alleyway. I never told him how I befriended a girl around my age named Sarah Jacobs. I never told him much of anything, I afraid he would feel guilty for not working, because he always would say, "It is the parents' place to work, not the child's."

Then, after about five months of working as a chimney sweep girl, my father's health began to get better and plummeted only a mere month later. Although his body was halfway healed, the apartment was constantly cold from poorly insulated walls and a chilly winter outside. Then, I returned home one afternoon and was greeted by my worst fear. My father had passed away while reclining on the couch. I didn't know what to do at the time; I ran over to Sarah's house and got her help. They sent their son, David, to the police station and a wagon came to get my father a few hours later. The Jacobs had offered to take me in, but only for a short amount of time since they had a baby on the way.

I stayed with them for about two months and during his time I changed my "career" from chimney sweep girl to newsie. I loved to read, and my father always said my voice was stubborn and commanding, a real attention-getter. I only bought twenty papers at a time though, although my voice was loud and caught a lot of attention, people found it unethical for a little girl to be doing a boy's job. After all, girls weren't supposed to work, we're supposed to cook, clean, sew, and take care of the chores.

During my third month as a newsie, I moved into the Manhattan Lodging House; the newsies were kind and were a tight knit family. They protected their own, although strangers were welcomed with open arms, they weren't considered "one of the group." You had to prove yourself for that. I worked as a newsie until I was 15, then one day I was running away from a man who accused me from stealing. I ran into Mr. Joseph Pulitzer and almost knocked him over.

"Why are you running?" He snapped at me, and then saw I was in trouble. I knew the newsies said he was a hoity toity tight wad, and I assumed what any logical street smart newsie would: He was going to hold me in place and wait for the man to arrive. Instead, he noticed how fast I ran and told me he would help me only if I was truthful with him and if I agreed to be his personal messenger girl for Manhattan and Brooklyn. I agreed very quickly and told him the truth; I had not stolen from the man. All I took was a penny.

Mr. Pulitzer hired me on the spot. The man who was chasing me was basically told to get lost by Mr. Pulitzer's carriage driver. And that is how I became Pulitzer's personal messenger. The best time of my life began in 1899, the day when the Manhattan Newsies went on strike…

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17 year old Emmalyn McGongle flinched as her employer, Mr. Joseph Pulitzer, yelled at Sykes for telling his personal secretary, Agatha, to allow Cowboy Jack Kelly through the front door. The older man's face was beat red and his hands trembled as he pointed at Sykes.

"I'm running a newspaper, _not_ an orphanage!"

"Sir, if I could please say a word," the middle aged man exclaimed, with his hands in front of him in surrender. "The boy was here to protest the new prices of the papers, and you always say for a man to run a successful business of _any_ kind, one must listen to his employees. The newsies are your employees, and their fighting to be heard."

"You think I did not hear the singing, this 'World Will Know' and something about papers burning? They are a rowdy bunch of children, if they can't pull their acts together to sell newspapers, then we'll find children who can!"

Floaty flinched, Cowboy Jack Kelly was her friend, as were a lot of the newsies, and hearing her employer speak about them in this context angered her. The newsies were like any other person, fighting to survive in a harsh world. The only difference was the fact the newsies were children of all ages, ranging from 5 and up. There were even a few adults selling newspapers.

Pulitzer turned to her, "Emmalyn, the messages are my desk, take them to the Brooklyn Distribution Center, I expect you back here by mid-afternoon, no sooner and no later."

"Yes, sir….But, if I could-"

Sykes suddenly placed a hand on her shoulder and led over towards Pulitzer's desk, grabbed the messages, shoved them into her leather messenger bag, and began shoving her towards the door.

"Emmalyn, you and I both know his temper. He doesn't like anyone, especially not a woman, questioning him. Mind your place in society and be lucky he still feels comfortable about giving a girl, now a lady, a boy's job. Remember to be back at this building early this evening. Mr. Pulitzer has a business proposition for the other newspaper tycoons, and he wants you to serve the drinks and appetizers."

Floaty nodded, "Yes, Mr. Sykes….But Mr. Pulitzer needs to be kinder to the new…"

"What's she saying?" Pulitzer snapped from across the room.

"The newsies need to be more understanding of your position, sir." Sykes replied hurriedly as he shoved her out of the room and shut the door in her face.

Floaty bit her bottom lip in frustration as she glared at the wooden door, then turned and walked past Agatha's desk. The middle aged secretary glanced up at her and gave a small smile.

"It's noble of you to try to defend your friends, Emmalyn, but sometimes you have to know when to let go. You have a good job; don't waste it on that bunch of kids. They're not worth it. You have a lot of good things heading your way, Mr. Pulitzer sees you almost like a daughter, and there's a good chance you'll be his first female reporter if you continue to work hard and keep your nose out of this 'strike' gossip."

"I can't keep my nose out of this 'gossip,' they're my friends, Agatha. If Mrs. Conwell was in trouble and wanting the secretaries to go on strike, I know you would support her cause. You both are as close as sisters. The newsies are my brothers and sisters, and I stand by them."

Agatha sighed and gestured for Emmalyn to leave, "If you wish to flush your future down the drain, Emmalyn, go ahead and do so. Just remember, street rats won't be the one to stand by you when you need help; they'll scatter like cockroaches. Mr. Pulitzer is a powerful man and he'll stand by you, so for your well being, just pretend you don't care."

Emmalyn shrugged, "Fine," she muttered as she walked out of the World building. Anger caused her body to tremble and for a curtain of red to block her vision momentarily. She took a deep breath; she had to think logically. She was getting good money from Pulitzer, she was working hard, however she highly doubted he saw her as a daughter. He saw her as a kid who would work for him and bring him good press. 'Mr. Pulitzer Takes Street Girl Under His Wing,' that's all he wanted to see and hear. After all, the better the press, the better the sales.

"Well then," she muttered, "I'll keep in his good faith and I'll be the 'mole' and tell the newsies his every move. At least then I'm helping my friends." Floaty walked towards Tibby's, it was the cheapest restaurant around and they made good food. Plus, she had to admit, she wanted to see Jack and her friends again.

When she stepped through the threshold of the restaurant she found Jack sitting beside none other than David Jacobs. Floaty smiled, she was glad to see that David had listened to her advice about becoming a newsie last week. _Though maybe I should have held my tongue for a while, David needs money….Maybe I can give his family some of the money I make this week to help tide them over until this whole strike business is settled?_

"Hello, Jack," Floaty smiled as she walked over to his table and was surprised to see a well dressed businessman sitting beside Les.

"Hi Emmalyn," David greeted with a smile, "What a day, huh?"

"No kidding," Emmalyn muttered.

"Heya, Floats," Jack greeted with a large grin. "C'mon and sit down, Denton here is offerin' to write about the strike! We're gonna be in the papes!"

"You all will be in the papers," Emmalyn corrected, "Though…" She leaned forward and whispered, "I will give you information on what Pulitzer does, ok?" As she pulled away, Jack nodded with a smirk.

"What was that?" Denton asked, his notepad sitting on the table, his pencil in hand.

"Nothin', she was just tellin' me the favor she owed me was repaid," Jack shrugged. The three newsies, one reporter, and messenger girl all ate their lunches. Jack talked about the sudden raise of prices, his frustration, and he and his newsies uncertainty that they could afford to buy papers at these prices.

"We scramble as it is to sell dese papes, there's no headlines, they all stink. We have to lie about 'um, and we have to run for our lives half the time after getting a person's money. The jack-up in prices is makin' things impossible. Kloppman, the owner of our lodging house, would let us stay for free if he could, but da man's gotta make a livin' too!"

Denton nodded, "Well, I'm going to write this interview in the paper, see how the article does and how people respond to it. Where you all headed next?"

"Brooklyn," Jack replied, "Gotta see the newsie king."

"The…Newsie King?" Denton asked with a raised eyebrow.

"He's da royalty of newsies," Jack smirked, "Let's put it this way: If Brooklyn says no to the strike and we go against him, he'll either join us or soak us. He's da most feared and respected newsie for miles around, heck, newsies in Jersey know about him!"

"Sounds like a powerful kid. And you, young lady, what do you have to do with all this?"

Emmalyn paused, "I'm Mr. Pulitzer's messenger, I'm friends with the newsies and I'm offering them my support in any way possible….Though, I'd ask if you could keep that off the record. Maybe you could say I was delivering you a message? I can't afford to lose my job."

"None of us can," David said softly as he placed his napkin on his plate. "Les, you finished?"

"Yeah," the ten year old replied as he looked at his brother.

David's nose wrinkled, "It's yes, and clean your mouth, you know better than to leave a restaurant with a messy face."

"It's off the record then," Denton nodded.

"Thank you," Emmalyn smiled, "That's a huge favor, so let me know how I can repay it."

"Well," Denton paused, "There would be one way. I have a reporter friend in Brooklyn; he works for the Sun Distribution Center…"

"And you have a message for him, but don't want to pay a messenger boy to deliver it? Consider it done," she smiled as she held out her hand. He gave her the message, talked a little more to Jack and then left to go and type up his article.

"You goin' to Brooklyn, Floats?"

"Unfortunately," Floaty muttered. "I hate going there, I never got to meet Spot and from what I hear he doesn't take kindly to Pulitzer's personal employees 'invading his territory'."

Jack laughed, "Well, you're a different case, how about ya tag along? When does Joe want ya back?"

Floaty watched as David took Les over to Mush and Blink's booth and asked them to watch over his little brother.

"By mid-afternoon."

"Well then, come with us to meet Brooklyn."

"I don't think that's such a good idea."

"I do, and as your friend, and your superior – cause I'm a leader and you ain't – I'm tellin' ya you're comin' with us."

Floaty laughed and held up her hands, "Alright, I know when I've lost a battle." She stood up, "Hey David, have you ever yelled over the Brooklyn Bridge's railing?"

David looked taken aback, "Why on Earth would anyone do _that_?"

Emmalyn laughed, "For fun."

"If you say so," her long time friend muttered as the small group of friends, now joined by Boots, exited the restaurant together.

As they crossed the bridge, Boots exclaimed, "Ya know, I spent a month there one night."

Jack, Boots, and Floaty all leaned over the bridge's railing and let out a loud yell, startling a few dock workers below them. They laughed.

"So is this Spot Conlon….Is he dangerous?" David asked timidly.

Jack and Boots both laughed, while Floaty shrugged.

"I hope not, because if he is I'm running the other way and I'm the fastest runner in all of New York, so there is no way he's catching my cowardly-self!" She laughed as she walked beside him.

"Wait till ya meet him," Jack laughed, "Just wait."

The streets of Brooklyn were crowded with people: Newsies, shoe shiners, black smiths, flower girls, hoity toitys, and more. However, Brooklyn was a tough place and had just become part of New York (some people said the thugs in Brooklyn were so dangerous because they felt left out for not being a part of New York for so long). Pulitzer had given Floaty a slingshot as a defense weapon, however he also enlisted the help of several of his employees in Brooklyn to keep an eye out on her when she was in their neck of the woods (however they did a terrible job) but one thing Floaty had that a lot of girls didn't was the fact she knew how to fight. Although she wasn't the world's greatest fighter, she could definitely hold her own. She had proved that countless times when her uncle's men chased her. Thankfully, her uncle had given up his chase and finally told her when she was ready to "return home" on her own, she could.

As the small group walked down the docks, Floaty tensed at the sight of the tough newsies. Some were as muscular as Mush, while others were thin and gangly. However, they all shared one trait in common: They looked tough enough to eat nails.

"Heya, Kelly," a newsboy sneered as he pulled himself out of the harbor and onto the dock.

Jack glared at him for a long moment and turned his attention to a short boy sitting atop a small step of the dock that resembled a bench. Floaty's father had always referred to small structures like that as 'Fishermen's rests' where fishermen could sit down while they fished. It was an excellent place to go when they were sick and couldn't be out on the boats.

"Whatcha doin' up there, ya royal highness?" Jack smirked in sarcasm.

"Well, well, if it ain't Jack-be-nimble, Jack-be-quick," the boy exclaimed with a smirk as he climbed halfway down from his chair and onto the dock.

"Heya Spot, I found some real good shooters for ya," Boots smiled as he held out a handful of marbles. Spot studied his hand for a moment and took the marbles and pocketed some, while leaving another in his hand. His icy blue gaze traveled over Jack, to Boots, to David, and finally Floaty. Floaty felt her stomach clench and her breath catch in her throat. His gaze remained settled on her for a long moment. _I don't know whether to be intimidated or to try to keep myself from blushing. Why am I blushing? I should terrified of him, not attracted to him! _

The newsie king's gaze finally left her, and he smirked at Jack. The two friends spat into their palms and shook each other's hands. David gave a little shudder of disgust.

"I've been hearing things from little birds. Things from Harlem, Queens, all over. They been chirpin' in my ear. Saying Jacky-boy's Newsies is playing like they're going on strike." He aimed his slingshot and let go of the band and sent the marble flying; it hit a nearby glass bottle that shattered above David's head. Startled, he stepped out of the way.

Jack shrugged, "Yeah, well we are."

"But we're not playing. We are going on strike," David exclaimed. Spot turned to face him and took a step closer to him and glared David in the eye. Floaty guessed Spot felt he was being challenged by someone lower than him, which only provided more proof that he was indeed (or at least in his mind) a king. David glanced over at Jack, then to her, the expression on his face seemed to scream the word, HELP!

"Oh yeah? Yeah? What is this, Jacky-boy? Some kind of walking mouth?" Spot followed David's glare and seemed intent on intimidating him.

"David was just stating a fact; he wasn't trying to step on your feet." Floaty exclaimed and inhaled a deep breath when Spot glared at her. Her stomach flipped and she glanced at David. He looked surprised and grateful to have Spot's icy gaze off him.

"Whose this, Jacky-boy?"

Floaty thought about taking a step backwards, but decided against it. Spot seemed to be a person who enjoyed seeing other peoples' discomfort. She would stand her ground, no matter how nervous she was of the newsie king.

Jack smiled, "Well, Spot, you've been askin' me who Pulitzer's messenger is for years, so I brought her. Spot Conlon, I want ya to meet Emmalyn 'Floaty' McGongle. Floaty, this here is Spot Conlon, da most powerful and respected newsie in New York."

Floaty nodded, "Hello."

"Pulitza's messenger is a _girl_?" Spot seemed surprised, and then he smirked as he circled her. Floaty suddenly felt like a piece of meat in a butcher shop's window.

"Yes, I am a girl, and if you don't circling me…"

Spot's face was suddenly shoved so close to her own that Floaty could see her reflection in his eyes. "If I don't stop circlin' you, you'll what? C'mon, say what ya wanna say."

Floaty glared at him, her mouth became as dry as sand. "If you don't stop circling me, I'm afraid we'll have to do a dance, since it's not proper for a man to be dancing by himself." She smirked at seeing his expression, it was one of shock. Obviously he had expected her to threaten him. No, she was smarter than that. One messenger girl against Spot Conlon and his newsies, the results of that train wreck were obvious.

"Well, Jack, ya didn't tell me Pulitza was smart when he hired this one," Spot smirked. "She's got moxie; I like dat in a girl."

"That's why we brought her," Jack replied and Floaty looked at him in surprise. He muttered to her, "Sorry, Floats, but in this case I needed all da backup I could get!"

Spot studied Floaty for a moment before he turned his attention back to the strike, "And the walkin' mouth?"

"Yeah, it's a mouth. A mouth with a brain, and if you got half a one, you'll listen to what he's got to say."

Spot shrugged and sat down, then crossed his arms, "Alright, you got me attention, I'm listenin'."

David swallowed nervously before starting his speech, "Well, we started the strike, but we can't do it alone. So, we're talking to Newsies all around the city."

"Yeah, dey told me….What did they tell you?" Spot leaned forward with interest written across his face. He reminded Floaty of a powerful leader waiting to hear which of his employees needed to be fired.

"They're waiting to see what Spot Conlon is doing, you're the key. That Spot Conlon is the most respected and famous Newsie in all of New York, and probably everywhere else. And if Spot Conlon joins the strike then they join, and we'll be unstoppable. So you gotta join, I mean... well, you gotta!"

Spot listened and after a minute a small smirk crossed his face. David had obviously fed Spot's ego, as the newsie leader stood the smirk left his face. He grabbed his cane and pointed it at Jack, then at David, "You're right Jacky-boy, brains. But I got brains too, and more than just half a one. How do I know you punks won't run the first time some goon comes at ya with a club? How do I know you got what it takes to win?"

Jack's body language stiffened as he shrugged nervously, "Because I'm telling you, Spot."

Spot stared at Jack, David, and Boots for a long moment, "That's not good enough, Jacky-boy, ya gotta show me."

Jack opened his mouth to argue but Spot turned away. He gave a sigh, "Come on, you all, Floats-"

"Floaty stays with me," Spot ordered.

"I can't," Floaty exclaimed wide eyed, "I have messages to deliver! Paychecks to give out! If I'm not back to Manhattan by mid-afternoon then I'll lose my job!"

Spot looked at her, "Ya won't lose your job. I'll take ya to wherever you need to go."

Jack pulled Floaty aside, "I'll bring her back, Spot. Hey Boots, will ya take Davey and show him around the docks?"

"Sure thing," Boots nodded before he walked off. David occasionally glanced back at Jack and Floaty as he followed the younger newsboy.

"Floats, I'm sorry, but I had to do somethin'. The odds were against us and I had a feelin' Spot would like ya." Jack shrugged and placed his hands into his pockets, "I know I should of told ya the real reason I was bringin' ya."

"Yeah, you should have." Floaty grumbled, "I would have gone along with you."

"I wasn't sure, not after all the stories you've heard about Spot….And…" he glanced away.

"You were afraid if I left you all once, I'd do it again," Floaty finished for him. She turned and looked out at the harbor; when she had left the newsies lodging house, it had nothing to do with her friends. Pulitzer had had done more for her than the newsies knew. She and Jack had never told anyone, but when she lived in the lodging house the two had been a couple. Only months after Pulitzer had hired her she gave birth to her daughter, Lily. She and Jack had stopped their secret visitations with one another after their baby passed away a month after her birth. Pulitzer had paid for the coffin, funeral arrangements, and flowers; and to this day she was still paying back the bill.

"Yeah," Jack scuffed his foot along the wooden planks of the dock. "Look, Floats, Spot's a good guy. I used to tell ya a lot of untrue stories about him, cause I was mad at ya. You stopped seein' me all together after Lily….Well ya know….Then, last year, outta the blue you're talkin' to me again. I just….I thought after this ya'd run off again."

Floaty shook her head, "I'm done running. I learned the hard way that in life one can't run from their problems, they have to face them head on."

Jack nodded, "So you'll help try to win Spot ovah?"

She nodded, "I'll help you."

Jack beamed, "Thanks, Floats."

"Yeah, yeah, go catch up with your newsies."

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A few minutes later, Floaty was walking to the Brooklyn World Distribution Center with Spot walking beside her. She hadn't said much to him, and he had remained silent as well. She wasn't sure what to make out of him. Spot Conlon was the most feared and respected newsboy in New York – and yet he was short, only an inch taller than herself. Yet, height had nothing to do with the reason why he was the newsie king, and that was obvious. His glare alone could scare the pants off any newsie daring to cross him. He was smart, tough, and ruled like a king.

"So you were Jacky-boy's mysterious girlfriend," he finally commented.

Floaty looked over at him, "How did you know that? Jack and I….We never told anyone! We were planning too..."

"I have little birds everywhere," he replied and paused as she handed a pile of envelopes to the elderly man behind the distribution center's gates. "I even knew about Lily, remember that bouquet of Forget-Me-Nots? Me newsies and I came together to buy that."

"That was the most beautiful part of her funeral," Floaty replied as her eyes glazed over. Losing a child was not something a parent easily recovered from; in fact there was no recovering from it. Lily had been he daughter, her child; she had been so beautiful with her chubby little cheeks, sparkling brown eyes, and her stringy blonde hair. When Lily had died, a piece of Floaty and Jack had died with her; Floaty knew it had been stupid, greedy, and downright stupid to stop seeing Jack after their daughter's death. But he reminded her so much of their dead daughter….Still, it was cowardly and inexcusable. No amount of apologies could ever make up for her actions.

"After the funeral, I took two of the flowers and pressed them into a book. Then, last year, I gave Jack one of the flowers and I keep the other in my locket. I feel like I'm telling Lily I'll never forget her."

"Well, you are," Spot replied, "I'm glad ya liked the flowers. Jack was real upset when ya stopped talkin' to him for a while there."

"I was being stupid."

Spot paused and dropped the subject as they walked to the Sun's distribution center. When they walked away Floaty cleared her throat.

"You know, Jack and his newsies are strong and their passionate about this strike. You should give them a chance."

Spot glanced at her and snorted, "Jacky-boy's newsies may be strong in some areas, but in others their weak. I've seen some of them take off running at the sight of a goon with club. Dey gotta prove themselves before I'll allow anyone to help them."

"They'll band together and they'll fight."

"I'll believe dat when I see it. So, tell me somethin', why did ya decide to work for old Joe Pulitza?" He drew her over to a bench and sat down. Floaty paused and eyed a church's clock tower, it was two in the afternoon and she needed to be back by three or three thirty at the latest.

Floaty paused, "At first it was by accident. I was selling a newspaper to some guy, and he accused me of stealing his money. So, I followed the instinct that I stupidly followed two years ago, I ran. I bumped into Pulitzer, literally, and he offered to give me a job as a messenger girl since I could run so fast. In return, he'd chase the guy off. Instead of using my noggin, I agreed. He gave me a job, I was about to quit after I had Lily. But when she passed and Pulitzer paid for the wedding I couldn't leave….Especially not after he told me I'd be paying him back for the funeral by staying employed to him."

"How much did it cost ole' Joe? I know it was expensive," Spot gazed towards her.

"Eighty dollars," Floaty replied, "The only reason he did it was for the headlines. He wanted people to see he was charitable…" She snorted, "He was charitable when he wants to be. So in return for Lily's funeral I have to stay employed to him until he says something different. But, to tell the truth, I've been saving up my money and when I earn enough I'm gonna give him half of whatever I have and quit. But that's not for years down the road."

"Why not for years?"

Floaty paused, "The only reason I'd quit is if I got married. After I got married, I would hope whoever I married didn't believe in 'woman should not be working' and he would help me with my job hunt when he had the time."

"Sounds like a plan," Spot smirked. "How about I walk ya back to Manhattan. Say, what time do ya start work in the mornin's?"

"When I start work? Usually around eight in the morning. Why?"

"Just askin'," he shrugged with a smirk. As the two walked back to Manhattan together and to the World building, he turned to her, "See ya tomorrow morning."

"See you…" Floaty paused, "Wait a moment here! Hey!" She shouted as Spot laughed, waved, and continued on his way back to Brooklyn.


	2. Josiah Kingston & Breakfast on the Docks

_**Disclaimer: I do not own Newsies or any of its characters, they belong to Disney. I do not own Floaty, she belongs to DimensionalTraveller. I own Laurie and Victoria and the Boarding House, and the name Josiah Kingston.  
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_**(A/N: Hi everyone, thank you all so much for the great reviews and the story/author adds. :-))**_

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Pulitzer's party began at eight o'clock sharp and ended a few minutes before midnight. The attendees had mainly been newspaper tycoons, though there were two big named reporters, and a general who was visiting New York for him and his wife's honeymoon. Floaty had been on her feet all night, serving drinks and appetizers; taking away dirty cups, silverware and plates; and making small talk with the guests. After everyone had left, she had gathered all the dirty china plates and bowls, silverware, cups, and silk napkins into a large wicker basket lined with an old patchwork blanket. She folded the blanket over the bundle of eatery and carried it out to Pulitzer's carriage; it was well known by all of Pulitzer's personal employees that Mrs. Pulitzer became a very, very angry woman when it came to destroyed dishware…and Pulitzer was terrified of her when she was angry.

"Hey, nice night."

Floaty jumped and gave a small cry of alarm that was cut short when the back of her head hit the upper threshold of the carriage. She placed her hand at the back of her head and gave a small moan before turning towards the voice.

Spot Conlon leaned against the carriage with his arms crossed, a smirk plastered on his face.

"Don't do that! What are you doing here?" Floaty hissed in annoyance as she sat down on the step of the carriage.

"It's just little bump," Spot replied as he sat down on the cobblestone street in front of her. When she glared at him he shrugged, twitched and muttered, "Are ya ok?"

"Yes, I'm fine….No thanks to you, of course."

"Hey, if ya had passed out ya would be thankin' me! I would've brought you to a hospital!"

"Well….Thank you," Floaty replied. She was still wary around the Newsie King; however, at the moment, she was considering him more of a nuisance than a feared leader. "Why were you out here this late? Shouldn't you be in Brooklyn?"

"Everyone in Brooklyn's asleep, da lodgin' house is filled with snores, snorts, and farts. Why be there when I can be doin' something interesting?"

Floaty raised her eyebrow, she was used to human body functions, but it was nice to hear the word 'farts' instead of 'poofs.' "So you decided to come to the World Building….because…."

"To see you! This afternoon's conversation was interestin' and I thought another conversation would be interestin' too."

Floaty stared at him, her face expressionless.

Spot's face contorted with surprise, "If I told some other woman I had come to see her, she'd be blushin', messin' with her hair, and all those other weird things you girls do; then she'd giggled and be honored. _You_ just stare at me, not even the least bit grateful for a well-needed break from the hoity-toities. You break me heart, Floaty."

"Get over it," Floaty quipped, "Do you know how much trouble you could get us both into right now? Pulitzer could have you thrown into the refuge for trespassing! He could fire me, and make sure no boarding house in this area will take me in!"

Spot shrugged, "First of all, the World Building is a public building. So it don't matter whose around, it's for the public."

"Not during the night it's not. It's for employees only."

Spot smirked, "Sure it is! I'm a World employee; I sell ole Joe's papes!"

Floaty shook her head, "Never mind."

"And if you were so concerned with your job, you would've run back into that building without so much as lookin' at me. Eh? Eh?" He smiled triumphantly as her loss of words.

Floaty crossed her arms, "I am concerned for my job, I'm just tired. I've spent all night catering to…" She stopped and stared at Spot took a small finger sandwich out from his pocket.

He stared at her, "Well, keep goin'."

"How did you get that?"

"Cause ya catered it to me!"

"I did not! You weren't in there!"

"Yeah I was! I was Mr. Kingston, the reporter from Queens who wrote about the Cowboy who jumped on Roosevelt's carriage and escaped the refuge a few months ago." Spot's face was filled with pride.

"Wait….That was you! You're the reporter, Josiah Kingston?"

Spot smirked, "See, I got a day job when I want one! The World just don't know it, I sneak any articles I write to a cute little secretary who types it up and makes sure it's published into the papes."

"Great, now you're getting a secretary in trouble," Floaty muttered.

Spot laughed, "You're excited about all this action and adventure, but you're tryin' to be lady like and ignore what ya hear. Yeah, I know a newsgirl a lot like ya. Her names Alley, she's called 'The Heart of Brooklyn,' cause I found her when I was a kid, she's like a sister to me. You two would get along real well."

"Emmalyn, Mr. Pulitzer wants you back inside now so stop resting and start walking!" Jonathan, Mr. Pulitzer's accountant, huffed as he walked back into the building and shut the door behind him.

"See! You are glad I came! Ya needed a break, and ya got one….Plus it was interestin'."

Floaty started to stand and Spot grabbed her wrist, "Ya got a minute more….In that time answer these questions: Where were ya born? How come I haven't seen ya around? And how do ya feel about Brooklyn?"

Floaty glanced back at the window; Spot gently shook her hand and arm.

"C'mon, girl, tell me. Forget the hoity-toities for a minute!"

Floaty sighed, "Then will you just go so I can keep my job?"

"I swear on me heart; I'll _run_ back to Brooklyn without lookin' back!" The wide mischievous smile on his face made Floaty doubtful he'd fulfill that promise.

Giving him the benefit of a doubt she sighed, "Fine. I was born in Claddagh, Ireland; I only go into Brooklyn maybe two to three times each week and its mainly to the World Distribution Center – between paper buying times – and to Angelina's Bakery, so there's little chance you'd see me; and….Brooklyn's a dangerous town, but I…kind of like it." The moment she said she liked Brooklyn she knew she had made a mistake. Spot's grin had widened (which she thought was impossible).

"See ya in the mornin', Floats….Oh, and ask Sykes in the mornin' why the Brooklyn Bridge is an eighth wonder."

"Emmalyn!" Jonathan shouted from the door once again, "Now!"

"I'm on my way!" She exclaimed as she stood and walked quickly and braced her left arm.

"What's wrong with your arm?" Jonathan stared at her left arm and backed away from it, as if at any moment the appendage would become a snake and bite him.

"I fell and when I landed, I twisted my arm."

* * *

Morning came early to the Annalise Boarding House for Women; the factory girls, teens, and women woke and got ready at the same time Floaty did. All around her people hustled past one another as they prepared for the morning ahead of them. Unlike the Manhattan Newsies Lodging House, which was always friendly and inviting, the atmosphere was dark. The women were almost constantly grouchy, and never once did anyone break out into song. The first morning Floaty had spent in the boarding house, she had begun singing and everyone shouted at her to be quiet. No, the Annalise Boarding House for Women was not a friendly place what so ever.

However, it wasn't completely unbearable; there were a few nice people. The little girl who slept in the bunk bed above Floaty's was kind. Her name was Victoria Tanya MacDunn. She was a sweet little girl with golden blonde hair and wide brown eyes; she had an oval shaped face and she always reminded Floaty of an angel. Then, there was Laurie Whittaker, a plump middle aged woman with constantly frizzed gray hair. Laurie had a square shaped face, blue eyes, and a smile that could melt the iciest heart (Floaty hoped Laurie's smile could melt Pulitzer's heart).

"G'morning, m'darlings, how are ye this fine mornin'?" Laurie questioned as she helped Victoria out of her night dress and into her old and worn blouse which was stained black, gray, and brown in some places from machinery oil, rust, and dust.

"I had a dream about a pony!" Victoria beamed. "And on the pony was my mommy and daddy and they came here to take me home to the castle!"

"Really? Y'don't say? Well, then, do me a favor, love, when your parents come to take ye to the castle, bring me with ye, yes?" The Scottish woman beamed and pinched Laurie's cheek.

"Okay!"

"And how about ye, Miss Emmalyn? Ye sleep alright, lass?"

"Yes, though….If you have time….I really need to talk to someone," Floaty replied as she pulled her brown skirt up to her waist and buttoned it.

"Of course, love. Victoria, y'go brush your teeth now, and remember use the…"

"I know…I know…the icky tasting stuff you call toothpaste," Victoria grumbled as she stomped off. People didn't used to brush their teeth a few decades ago, however Civil War soldiers were instructed to brush their teeth in hopes in spread the habit around. After the War Between the States had ended, many people in America were beginning to brush their teeth, except for people out west and Indians.

"Well, then, what do ye need to talk to me about?"

"I met a boy who's around my age…maybe a little older….His name is Spot Conlon."

"Spot Conlon?" Laurie questioned wide eyed, "Ye don't say. All the girls in the factory are always abuzz about him. They call him the Newsie King; it even sounds as if a few adults are afraid o' him."

"I've heard the same thing….But have you heard stories of Spot….Not leaving a person alone?"

Laurie paused, "Ooh, he's not leavin' ye alone, ye say?" A wide smile crossed her face, "It sounds to me like this Spot Conlon likes ye very much. Oooh, just ye wait to until I tell people in the factory! The girls will be green with envy, they will! Ole Laurie isn't as washed up as they thought!"

Floaty was about to ask the older woman not to tell anyone, but Victoria came stomping back over to the older woman. She opened her mouth and showed off her teeth.

"See! Their brushed," she pouted, "And now they taste icky!"

Laurie laughed, "Well, they'll taste good after breakfast this mornin'. Emmalyn, love, go with your heart on this. If it feels right….Follow the current; if not for yourself, then for Victoria and m'self. We want to see you happy, love."

"I want to see you both happy as well," Floaty smiled as she hugged Laurie and Victoria.

"Oh, one day this ole woman will have enough money to find herself a new job, and I'll take Victoria with me." Laurie smiled, "Now, ye best go. This employer of yours is such a mean one!"

"Amen," Floaty laughed before she turned and grabbed her messenger bag. As she walked out of the boarding house she was met with scowls and stares from a few of the girls around her age. Obviously they had overheard her conversation with Laurie.

"Stay away from Spot Conlon," one of the girls hissed, "He doesn't like whore-trash like you, Irish girl!"

Floaty shrugged past the girl and ignored her. Unlike these girls, she wasn't chasing after Spot, if anything she was trying to get him to leave her alone. It was Spot who was chasing her!

_**

* * *

**_

The gates of the World Distribution Center looked lonely without Jack hanging off of them; Oscar and Morris Delancey even appeared to be upset.

"Good morning," Floaty reluctantly greeted the two brothers. Each morning before going to the World Building, she always stopped by the Distribution center to see if Weasel or the Delancey's needed anything delivered. "Do you have any messages for Mr. Pulitzer?"

"No," Morris grumbled.

"Yeah, I got one," Oscar sneered, "Lower the prices so the newsies will come back. This place is borin'!"

"Why Oscar, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you missed Jack." Floaty beamed as Weasel handed her an envelope. She deposited it into her bag, "Alright guys, one last time: Any letters? It's now or never."

"I don't miss Cowboy," Oscar snarled, "I miss seein' the money, now get outta our faces!"

Floaty rolled her eyes and left the Distribution Center and walked over to the World Building. On her way she kept her eyes out for Jack and the newsies, however the streets were bare. She bit her lip, she had to agree with Oscar, without the newsies, life in New York was rather dull.

"Morning, Emmalyn, did you think about what we talked about yesterday?" Agatha questioned from her desk.

"Yes, and I gave you my answer," Floaty retorted as she knocked on Pulitzer's door.

"Well, I happen to know you're still talking to the newsies," the secretary sniffed, "My beau, Morris, told me so."

"Morris Delancey is courting you?"

"Yes, why?" Agatha tensed, and for a moment she reminded Floaty of an angry wildcat.

"You two deserve each other," Floaty smiled. "Behind every good man is a good woman," she chided before Jonathan swung open the door and she entered the office. For a moment Floaty wondered if Agatha had picked up on her sarcasm, but doubted it.

"Emmalyn," Pulitzer nodded, "Your messages are in the usual place."

"Yes, Mr. Pulitzer," she nodded and took the message out of her bag, then handed it to him. "From Mr. Wiesel, sir."

"Thank you, get your messages. Be back no later than mid-afternoon….Oh, and," he handed her three pennies, "For your time last night."

_Three pennies, whoop-dee-doo!_ Floaty thought to herself but forced herself to smile, "Thank you, sir."

He nodded as he opened the letter, "Emmalyn, wait."

"Alright sir…" she paused near the door and watched as Pulitzer read the note. What was it about she wondered? She glanced across the room to Sykes, who was sitting on a sofa, his attention focused on Pulitzer.

"Emmalyn, hand me the letters I just gave you."

"Yes, sir," she replied and handed him back the pile of letters. Floaty's stomach twisted, was Pulitzer about to fire her? Did Weasel find out that she was helping the newsies? How could he have found out so soon?

"My reporter, Josiah Kingston, has a good headline but he can't get it to me without another reporter getting hold of it. Go to Brooklyn right away and get it and bring it back here, then take these messages and deliver them." Pulitzer ordered as he waved her off.

"Yes, sir," she glanced at Sykes, who stood and walked her towards the door.

"I know what you're going to ask," Sykes muttered to her, "Here's the answer: Brooklyn's the eighth wonder because he'll meet you on the eighth dock." When she walked out of the room, he once again shut the door in her face.

"Have a nice time!" Agatha exclaimed with a mock-wave, she had obviously picked up on the earlier sarcasm.

Floaty groaned as she walked out of the World Building, and paused for a moment to stretch her legs to get herself ready for the run. She took off in a sprint a moment later, her skirt flapping around her ankles and the breeze pushing her hair back. She had learned long ago as a child that when one ran, they needed to inhale through the nose and exhale through the mouth. This kept her from having to stop so often to catch her breath. As she ran past the statue of Horace Greeley she was pleasantly surprised to see the newsies singing and dancing.

"….Nothing can break us, no one can make us give our rights away, so arise and seize the day! Neighbor to neighbor, father to son….." They sang as Racetrack played his harmonica.

She continued on her run and paused when she reached the beginning of the bridge. She leaned against the railing and took a minute to catch her breath. The morning sunlight cast a gentle warmth on her body, and reminded her of her father's hugs. She stood a moment later and began her run to Brooklyn once again. As she ran past a few women stepped out of the way, disgust on their faces; why is a young woman doing a man's job? Their faces seemed to ask. Other women smiled and nodded towards her, they had seen her for years. Men rarely paid her attention, they were usually focused on their work or business meetings; once in a blue moon Floaty had trouble with one, but not often.

Floaty skidded to a halt in front of the eighth dock and was greeted by Spot walking calmly towards her with a muffin and cup of coffee in hand.

"You….had…me…run…all…this…way….for…_THIS_?" She panted and hunched over, she glared up at him. "My job….Is…Hard….Enough….With…Out…You…complicating…things!"

"Quit talkin'," Spot ordered, "Ya need to catch your breath. Runnin' around like that all the time ain't healthy ya know!" He wrapped his arm around her waist and guided her over to a fisherman's rest. She climbed atop two pilings to reach it and sat down; she gave him a nod of thanks.

"Here, ya gotta be starved," he placed the food and drink into her hands and climbed up on the Fisherman's rest beside her. "So, what are Jacky-boy's newsies doin'?"

Floaty glared at Spot long and hard, debating with herself on whether she could eat the muffin and drink the coffee. Her stomach growled. Sometimes, Floaty really hated her stomach. She took a small sip of the barely warm coffee and swallowed it.

"I saw them singing and dancing, I believe they're rallying together and getting into the spirit of things. They're stronger and more courageous than you think."

"Well, if Jacky-boy's serious about this strike, I'll know soon enough. So wanna know what the headline is?"

"I'd love too, _Mr. Kingston_. I know why you chose that name, Kingston. Because it implies 'King'."

"Nothin' gets past you, does it?" Spot smirked with a sparkle in his eye. He hopped of the fisherman's rest and helped her down onto the dock when she finished her breakfast.

"Thank you for the breakfast, you didn't have to do that and shouldn't have."

Spot shrugged, "I didn't mind, you'd do the same for me."

"And how do you figure that?" Floaty replied as she followed him down the dock.

Spot glanced behind her shoulder at her and smirked, "Because in the end I'd be irresistible to ya, like a little lost puppy dog beggin' ya for help. You couldn't turn me down. I've got a way with women, ya know."

"So I hear. What's this marvelous headline Pulitzer is so worked up about?"

"That," Spot replied and pointed towards a capsized boat. Floaty leaned forward and stared at it, suddenly a flashback raced through her mind.

_ She was sitting on her father's shoulders, beside them stood a tall man with a brown haired little boy on his shoulders._

_ "Look, papa, it's Amery-ca!" He shouted with a joyful smile._

The flashback ended and Floaty blinked.

"….That's the same boat that brought me and me pop over to America."

"Really?" Floaty asked in surprise, "That's the same boat I was on with my father….I remember my father was standing next to a tall man with black hair. He had a little boy with brown hair and blue eyes on…his…shoulder…." She stopped and glanced at Spot and almost groaned at seeing the huge smile on his face.

"I know, when ya said you were from Ireland I began ta wonder about that. I saw the ship capsize last night." Spot paused, "You used to live in Claddagh, Ireland?"

"Yes….You too?"

Spot nodded, "We were neighbors, I was wonderin' where I saw ya from the first time when Jacky Boy brought ya here. I got the article all written up," he placed the sheet of paper in her hand, "There ya go."

"Wait a second….A hello, a quick breakfast, you give me this surprise, then hand me this article and send me on my way?" Floaty stared at the paper then at Spot. "I ran all this way…"

"To do your job, you did it with a reward, so now ya go back to Pulitzer and deliver it. Ya can thank me later," he smirked as he walked past her.

"Where are you going?" She stared at the newsboy king in exasperation. Spot was enough to drive anyone insane!

He bent down and grabbed a pile of newspapers, "To make a livin'!"

"Spot Conlon!"

Spot turned, "Yes, Floats," he beamed, "I'll see ya for dinner at eight o'clock at Tibby's."

"_What?_ I said no such thing!" Floaty shouted after her and ran towards him; Spot looked over his shoulder, laughed, and ran off. Floaty stopped a few minutes later when she reached the base of the bridge. Spot had outrun her! "Oooh….Darn you anyway, Spot Conlon!"


	3. The Promotion & First Date

_**Disclaimer: I do not own Newsies or any of its characters, they're owned by Disney. Floaty belongs to DimensionalTraveller; and I forgot to mention in the last chapter that Alley belongs to DT's friend, Lilyantos. **_

_**(A/N: Hi everyone, thank you so much for the great reviews, and the story/author adds, they made my day. :-) This chapter is dedicated to you guys!)**_

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It was late afternoon after Floaty finished delivering all of Mr. Pulitzer's messages; she had a small stack of messages to give him from reporters, the Brooklyn Distribution Center, and from one of his friends. Floaty sat on a bench in Newspaper Row as she bit into a pretzel she had purchased earlier that day for a snack. Although the bulk of her day had ended, she had miles to go before returning to the boarding house. In a few minutes, she'd be going into the Distribution Center to give Oscar and Morris another lesson in proper grammar (something that seemed worthless, since they never used it; however, they did pay her). Then, she would deliver the messages to Pulitzer, go and wash up...She paused as she set her pretzel down on her lap. Did she really want to meet Spot at Tibby's tonight?

_I don't know him; he doesn't know me, so why meet up with him?_ After all, the "great leader of Brooklyn" was pompous and arrogant. The nerve of him to make it as if she had asked him out to dinner! Deep down, Floaty knew it wasn't the fact he asked her to dinner (in his own quirky way) that was bothering her; it was the fact he had outrun her. There was one thing she was boastful about in life, the only quality of hers she could brag about, and that was the fact she was the fastest runner in New York. _Until today._ _But he did have a head start! _She thought to herself as she reflected on that morning's strange meeting with the Newsie King. He had surprised her with that muffin and coffee, and it had been very kind of him to do that. Although she didn't want to show it, she felt flattered by that action. _The only other man who ever greeted me with breakfast was my father._

"Hey, if ya don't want that pretzel, I'll take it."

Floaty looked up and beamed at finding Racetrack Higgins walking up to her.

"Hello, Race!" She hugged the Italian newsie for a long moment, "How are you doing?"

"Eh, another horse forgot the hot tip and lost the race," he shrugged with a look of disappointment, "Oh well, one day one of them will remember to win. How are you doin'? You looked real deep in thought there. Everythin' alright?"

Floaty nodded, "Yes, everything's fine, it's just been a long day."

Race smirked as he sat down on the bench beside her, "Long day, or nervous because of tonight?"

She jumped, "What about tonight?"

Racetrack's smirk grew into a large smile, "You and Spot's date."

"He told you about that?" Floaty groaned as she slumped back onto the bench and crossed her arms. Damn, she hadn't even known Spot Conlon for a full 48 hours, and already her life was being turned upside down by him.

Race laughed at seeing her expression, "Yeah, he sent a newsboy to each borough to tell all the newsies to keep away from Pulitzer's messenger, cause 'Floaty belongs to Brooklyn now.'"

"Floaty belongs to _no one_ but herself," she retorted.

"He thought you'd say that, he's been havin' his newsie, Stretch, followin' you most of the day. But he gave up about an hour ago from what I hear, said he couldn't keep an eye on a girl who ran faster than a horseless carriage."

"Well, then, I'll take that as a compliment," Floaty smiled.

"Don't go off gettin' a big head!" Race chuckled, "So what were ya thinkin' about?"

"Well, since you caught me anyway, I was trying to decide whether to show up at Tibby's tonight or not. I really don't want too; I don't need 'Brooklyn's Girl' written all over me. One, Pulitzer has a horrible temper and only the Heavens know what he'd do when he found out; two, the girls in my boarding house would most likely kill me. They're all head over heels for Spot, and I've seen them trample over one another just to get to a window when they swear they've seen him walking on the street. Then, three, I have no idea what to make out of him; he's this tough and powerful newsie who scares the socks off many people, even a few adults from what I understand, and yet here he is chasing me around….It doesn't make sense."

"Why doesn't it make sense?" Race questioned as he eyed the pretzel. Floaty broke off the part she had taken a bite out of and gave him the rest.

"Jack used to talk about Spot all the time; and one of the things I remember him saying is that Spot only chased after middle-class and high-class girls. I'm neither; I'm a messenger girl for Pete's sake."

Race swallowed a piece of the pretzel, "Well, there's part of the story ya don't know. Spot is chased by the middle and rich class girls. He likes it, that hoity toity girls are swooning over him, and not some rich guy. He dates other newsgirls and some factory girls, but it's never serious, and every girl usually gets her heart broken."

Floaty snorted, "Well, then, he can just count me out of his date-and-dump-them-game. I'm not ready for love yet, or for having my heart broken. I've had enough of that."

Race glanced down at the ground, "Yeah….I uh….I heard about you and Jack's daughter, Lily. It's amazin' we all never found out…I'm real sorry."

"Lily's safe now, and she's happy. I like to think in Heaven she's going to grow up and become a beautiful young woman; she's being raised by the angels."

Race nodded, "Listen, Floats….About you and Spot's date….Spot has one heck of a temper. He didn't become the fearless leader of Brooklyn by bein' nice all the time. If ya don't show up, then he'll find ya and he'll either come get ya or walk away completely. And…Dang, I hate to say this to ya, but we really need ya to meet up with him. If you can convince him to join the strike…."

"I know," Floaty replied, "And for that reason, I'll go. But if he says he'll join the strike, and he says this to you all, then that's it."

"You can say that's it," Race laughed, "But wherever ya go, Spot will find ya. Mark me words, I know. He and Jack weren't always friends, and when Cowboy tried to hide from Brooklyn, Spot would always find him. He'll find ya too." He stood and paused, "Oh by the way, did ya see the Sun Paper?"

"No, not yet, I've been really busy. Why?"

"We destroyed the World Distribution Center's afternoon paper supply! Tore most of the papes up, and knocked over the wagon that brings them to the Distribution Center." He paused with a frown, "But the Delancey's got Crutchy, and he's in the refuge now."

"Oh no, I'm so sorry. You know, tomorrow is the day I deliver messages from Pulitzer to Snyder. If you want, tomorrow morning, give me a message and I'll give it to one of the kids to give Crutchy."

"You'd do that?"

"Of course, he's my friend too you know."

"Great, I'll let Jack know. Ya headed over there?" Race's face showed his clear disgust as he glanced over at the iron gates of the distribution center.

"Yes, I am. It's time for another grammar lesson, though I don't know why I even bother. Never once have I heard Oscar or Morris speak in proper English."

"Why are ya teachin' them anyway?"

"They asked," she grumbled. "Last year they saved my life when I was being chased by my uncle's men….So I owed them, and I managed to talk Pulitzer into making them junior reporters. However, in order to get that promotion they have to be able to speak and write in proper English."

"How's that been goin' for ya?" Race smirked.

"Have you ever seen two trains collide?"

The two laughed before they split up and went their separate ways.

_**

* * *

**_

"I would like sugar with my tea, good sir." Floaty said for the umpteenth time.

"I would like sugah with my tea, good suh," Oscar and Morris attempted to mimic. The storage room of the distribution center had been cleared halfway out for a makeshift classroom. Floaty sat on one side of a small square desk, while Oscar sat beside her and Morris across from her.

"No…No…Without the accents. Believe me when I say businessmen will not speak to reporters with heavy accents. I've seen people get snubbed all the time for this very reason. If you want this promotion, really want it, then you have to train yourself to speak properly." Floaty was getting frustrated with the Delancey brothers, for a few minutes they really seemed to be catching on; then their progress slowed and came to a virtual stand still.

"How can we lose our accents? We live in New Yawk, Manhattan, New Yawk!" Oscar snapped and kicked the leg of the table as he crossed his arms.

"You can if you concentrate," she snapped. "Let's try this again….I think I'll try a different sentence. The Newsies went on strike, and the Delancey's went poor."

"That ain't true!" Morris abruptly exclaimed as he sat up, obviously startled.

"Repeat it, without the accent, or it will be true. If there's an accent that means you two don't have the passion or stamina to become reporters."

"The Newsies went on strike and the Delancey brothers became wealthy young reporters." The Delancey's said with a smirk, giving their own version of the sentence.

"Well by George, I think they've got…"

"Hey, Oscah, you're missin' the races!" Shouted Rudy, the small red haired boy who helped to get the papers stacked up in the distribution center each morning, afternoon, and evening.

Oscar's eyes widened, "Morris, get up! We gotta go, if that tip Higgins gave us is right, then we're gonna be rollin' in dough." He turned and smirked at Floaty, "See ya Friday, tootsie."

"You two have learned nothing," Floaty groaned as Morris stood up and to her surprise gave a shy smirk and shrug. She shook her head and glanced at the clock in the next room behind the distribution counter. It was nearly four o'clock, time to deliver Pulitzer's messages to him.

_**

* * *

**_

"He's waiting for you," Agatha commented nonchalantly, her nose stuck in a book.

"Thank you," Floaty knew her tone was sharp but didn't care. Agatha was what Jack would call a muttonhead, a fool. Floaty raised her fist and just as she moved to knock on the door, Sykes swung it open.

"Emmalyn, perfect timing," Pulitzer exclaimed from inside the room. He sounded happy, and that concerned her. Pulitzer was never happy unless there was a good headline (maybe "Mr. Kingston's" article had put him into a good mood?), Hearst's paper, The Journal, was doing bad? Or perhaps one of Pulitzer's competitors had sold his newspaper to him?

"Thank you, sir." She walked slowly into the room and drew the small stack of messages from her bag, "I was asked to give these to you, Mr. Pulitzer."

"Put them on my desk," he gestured towards his large oak desk before clasping his hands behind his back. Sometimes he reminded her of a general; he certainly stood and acted like one. _I'm caught between a king and a general; I bet not many other messengers have the same dilemma._ She placed the notes onto his desk before turning; he was still facing away from her.

"Would you like me to leave now, sir?"

"I would not," he turned towards her, "Those two young men you told me of…Oscar and Morris Delancey. Have they improved with their speech?"

"A little sir, but they seem determined to keep their accents. It is very hard to get through to them at times."

"That's to be expected, they basically grew up on the streets. I wanted to have a chat with you, Emmalyn."

"Of course, sir."

Pulitzer motioned to the couch Sykes had been lounging on that morning, "Please, sit down."

"Yes, sir." She went and sat down, even more nervous than before. Was he going to fire her?

"You're growing into a beautiful young woman, Emmalyn. Beautiful young women have no place on the streets delivering messages." He turned to face her, "I have decided after this newsboy strike business ends, I will be retiring Agatha. I want you to take her place."

Floaty paused, she was shocked and speechless. One thing she never thought she would hear was Joseph Pulitzer telling her she was doing a good job by promoting her. "Thank…Thank you sir; I will work my hardest for you."

"I know you will, you have proven this to me countless times. I am going to increase your pay salary from five cents a week to seven cents. When you become my secretary I will decide if I should give you another raise or not."

"Yes sir, and thank you very much."

"Emmalyn, there is one more requirement."

"Yes…Sir?"

"The young fellow you suggested to me, Oscar Delancey, he visited me earlier today and I'm impressed. He may be a slow learner, but his grammar and lack of accent has improved. He asked if he could court you. I don't take part in trivial matters such as these, whatever your choice is don't let it get in the way of your work. You may leave now," he motioned towards the door.

_**

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Floaty was halfway back to the Boarding house when she remembered Spot had wanted to meet her at Tibby's, and she had promised Race she would be there. She paused as she listened as a nearby church's bells rang seven times, then a pause, and one more chime. It was half past seven, if she hurried she could get changed, brush her hair, and return to Tibby's with a few minutes to spare. She stretched her legs quickly and began to run towards the boarding house and skidded to a stop ten minutes later and hopped over the threshold.

"Where are you going in such a hurry," one of the girls questioned as Floaty raced by.

"Dinner with a friend!"

"Not Spot Conlon, I hope," the girl scowled.

"None of your business!" Floaty retorted as she climbed up the stairs and ran into the second floor's bunkroom where Laurie was helping Victoria change into a nightshirt.

"Hold on there, lassie! What's your hurry?" She looked startled.

Floaty whispered, "Spot asked me to dinner at Tibby's….I normally wouldn't go, but Racetrack begged me."

"Racetrack," Victoria beamed, "He's the nice man who talks about horses all the time!"

Floaty smiled, "Yes, sweetie, he is." Racetrack had dropped by the boarding house's lobby a few times for a visit. When Victoria met him for the first time she had taken to him like white on rice. She loved his jokes, his laughs (Victoria said his laughing sounded funny), and hugs. Floaty suspected the little girl had a very big crush on the Italian newsboy.

"Ooh, you're dating Spot now." Laurie smiled, "I see…I see…"

Floaty scowled, "I'm not dating him, I'm doing this as a favor to Jack, Race, and my friends."

"If ye say so, lass…"

"Emmalyn McGongle!" Shouted a new voice.

Floaty winced as she threw her blouse onto her bed and shrugged on her clean sky blue blouse that had small lilies embroidered in the collar. It had taken her months to save up for, and she only wore it once in a blue moon and always as a memorial to her daughter.

"What, Clarisse?"

The English teenager stomped into the room. She crossed her arms, "Lucy told me you're having dinner with Spot Conlon! Everyone says that the girl Floaty is Brooklyn's property and not to be touched. What did you do, go down to the docks and seduce him? You know I love Spot and you decided to take him from me!"

Floaty rolled her eyes as she changed out of her brown skirt and into an ankle length black one. "I didn't take Spot Conlon from you, Clarisse. He follows me wherever I go, if you want him then please, by all means take him. Just leave us alone for tonight, that's all I ask."

"Why just tonight?" She stared at Floaty and sneered.

"Because….Because, I want to talk to him and be _friends_ with him, ok?"

"Spot Conlon has no friends that are girls. You are trying to take him from me, you…"

"Ah, watch your language," Laurie scowled, "Now ye have had all the time in the world to speak to this Spot Conlon character, Clarisse, and ye never took it. He expressed an interest in someone and that someone is expressing interest in him as well. So ye just go back to that fellow whose courting you….Ah….Murd?"

"_Morris_, Morris Delancey; the newsies are terrified of him. He's even more powerful, handsome, and smart than Spot. You can have Conlon, I have Morris." Clarisse huffed and walked away.

Floaty rolled her eyes skyward, "She's off her trolley!"

"Pardon?" Laurie seemed puzzled.

"Sorry, it's what Jack says sometimes. It means she's crazy."

Laurie laughed, "I see, I'll have to use that sometime. You enjoy yourself."

"I'll try," Floaty replied as she dashed out of the bunkroom and began finger combing her hair as she descended the stairs.

_**

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**_

Floaty stopped running when Tibby's was in sight, she took a deep breath and paused a moment to finish braiding her hair. For anyone else she would never go through all this trouble. But for Race, Jack, and the others, she'd repeat this marathon twice. After her hair was braided, she tied it off with a small pink ribbon she had purchased for herself last month, and then walked into the restaurant. Except for a few newsies, namely Blink, Mush, and Racetrack, the place was empty.

"Hi you three, don't tell me you came here to see me humiliate myself?" She smirked.

Blink chuckled, "No, Floaty, we came here to give you moral support. You're helping us, so we figured it was time we helped you."

"Thanks, you guys," she smiled, "I have a feeling I'm going to need all the help I can get." She glanced at Jack, "I want you to know, Spot is a very odd newsboy. I can't figure him out."

"There's no figuring Spot out," Jack laughed.

"No kidding," Floaty retorted before she looked around the restaurant, "I don't see him."

"He's walkin' through the door," Mush replied.

Floaty turned and sat down in a booth behind Jack and the others. Spot sat down across from her, his eyes trailed from her face and downwards, then back to her face again. Floaty felt her cheeks grow hot as she blushed; she was getting sick of Spot scrutinizing her. It was uncomfortable, not to mention downright embarrassing.

"If you take a picture, it will last longer," Floaty commented and hoped the Brooklyn leader didn't see how nervous she was.

Spot raised an eyebrow and smirked, "If I take a picture it will last longa, hey I like that. I think I'll use it when me newsboys are gawkin' at me."

"I'm glad you liked it….What would you like to eat?" She reached for one of the menus tucked behind the metal napkin holder.

"Not even a hello, or how was your day, Spot?" He questioned, "That's rude."

Floaty glared at him, "That's the pot calling the kettle black, Spot Conlon. _You_ have been going around telling people that I'm Brooklyn's girl, and because of it I have a bunkroom full of girls wanting to claw my eyes out."

"Really? Well, I'll walk you home tonight and put an end to that," he said, his voice was firm. He reminded her of Pulitzer when he ended a conversation with an order.

Floaty paused, "You don't need to do that – "

"Yeah, I do, and besides it's gettin' dark and no girl should be walkin' alone when it's dark. So, let's start this over," he leaned forward with a smile and took off his cap for a moment. To her surprise, he took a rose out of it and handed it to her, "For me Irish rose."

Floaty stared wide eyed as she accepted it. She mentally kicked herself when she realized by accepting it, she had just accepted the fact she was Brooklyn's girl. _Dang it! He's sneaky! _

Spot had a sly and confident smirk on his face, "Ya should put it into your hair, if ya want I'll do it for ya."

"No, no, that's quite alright, I've got it," Floaty replied hastily as she began weaving the stem into her hair. She tucked the flower in her hair above her right ear.

"It looks great on ya. How was your day?"

"It was great," Floaty admitted with a smile, "Mr. Pulitzer gave me a promotion. As soon as the strike ends, I'll become his secretary."

Spot stared at her and looked as if he had just been smacked.

"What?" She was baffled, he had gone from confident and care free to cold and angry.

"So ya won't be comin' out to Brooklyn anymore."

"No….That job will fall to someone else. I need the promotion…"

Spot held his hand in the air, "Fine. Then I'm gonna make this easy," he turned around and stared at Jack, "Jacky-Boy, if you can prove ta me your newsies got what it takes by tomorrow afternoon, I'll join the strike."

"Really?" Jack asked, resembling a little boy on Christmas morning.

Spot nodded as Floaty's mouth dried. She was glad Spot wanted to join the strike, but that meant he'd have a large amount of control, and he could draw it out as long as he wanted it to be. Or at least until Pulitzer and the other newspaper tycoons called in the strike breakers from the Pinkerton Detective Agency.

Spot turned back to Floaty, looking happy and confident once more.

"Well, I'm glad your day was so good. Me day was good also; I found a few newsies from Harlem tryin' to break into me lodgin' house this afternoon."

"That's good news?" Floaty raised her eyebrow.

"Yeah, 'cause it means I was right when I said Harlem is tryin' to start a war with Brooklyn."

"Oh…Okay, good for you then," Floaty said, plastering a smile onto her face.

A waiter walked up a moment later and the two gave him their orders. As he walked away Spot smirked, "Ya know, Floats, ya try so hard to pretend ya want nothin' to do with me. Yet, the moment ya saw me ya started smilin' from ear to ear. So whose foolin' who here?"

"I never said I didn't like you, but I also didn't say that I liked you romantically."

Spot smirked, "Ya know one reason why people respect and fear me at the same time?"

"Because you're tough and frightening when angry?"

"Besides that."

"No idea."

Spot once again leaned forward a little, "Because I can read people like an open book. Like Jacky-boy there," he turned and stared at the Manhattan Leader, who squirmed nervously in his seat. "When he brought ya, I knew there was a reason behind it. I had a good idea of what it was too, if I joined the strike, I got a pretty girl as a reward. Right Jacky-boy?"

Jack nodded, his face was beet red.

Spot turned back to Floaty, "When I saw ya I knew you were attracted to me," he smirked, "The feelin's mutual. I also know you're usin' some sort of excuse to distance yourself from gettin' to look me too much. Let me guess? Spot's too tough for me?" He stared at her face, "He's too short, too thin, too smart, I don't understand him….Ah, that's the one you're usin', ya don't understand me." He smirked as he folded his arms behind his head and leaned back in the booth, "The only person who understands Spot Conlon _is_ Spot Conlon, and one other person."

"Oh? Who's that?" Floaty questioned.

"Mr. Sykes, he was me father's best friend. When me pop passed away, it was Sykes who got me started as a newsie, cause I was too 'rambunctious', whatever that means, to be somethin' else or sit in a classroom all day. What about you, what were you like when growin' up?"

Floaty paused as she thought back to her childhood, "Well, I think I was kind of shy and quiet when in public; though at home I could be off the walls sometimes. After my father died I forced myself to be more outspoken and louder, Jack and the others helped me to d that." She smiled.

Spot smirked, "I can believe the shy part, 'cause ya still are." He glanced down as their food was set down on the table. "Any other family, besides Trench?"

"You know about him too?"

"I'm Brooklyn; I know what I need to know."

"Keep that up and people will confuse you for a fortune teller," Floaty laughed, to her surprise he gave her an icy glare. "What?"

"Let's just eat," he replied as he focused on his meal. The two remained quiet until Floaty was almost finished with her meal. Deciding it was insane to be so quiet after a joke she cleared her throat.

"So, if you tease me, I need to sit back and take it. But if I tease you, I need to be quiet and apologize later?"

"Preferably, yeah."

"Well, that's not about to happen. My father always had a saying, 'In life, some people can dish out, but they can never take it.' If you keep this up, Spot, people will say the same about you. That's not a good reputation for a leader to have you know. A leader should be able to dish it out _and_ take it, with calmness and grace, like King Charlemagne."

"King who?"

Floaty paused, "Never mind, I'll explain later."

Spot was suddenly back to his over-confident-self, "So, Floats….If the Manhattan newsies are able to keep their word about the strike, I'm gonna be in Manhattan for a while. Think there's enough room in that boardin' house of yours for me?"

Floaty stared at him as if he were insane, "It's an all-girls boarding house. If the owner found you, she'd have her sons kick you out."

"An all-girl boarding house….Yet there are two sons." Spot said as he raised his eyebrows.

Floaty snorted, "Alright, so the owner is eccentric, but it's her rules not mine!"

"Look, I'll bounce between your boardin' house and me lodgin' house."

"You'll do no such thing!" Floaty shifted uncomfortably, "Just stay with the newsies, ok?"

"Why, ya got some kind of reputation there you're tryin' to upkeep?"

"No…"

"It's that distance thing of yours," he scowled visibly annoyed.

"For Pete's sake, Spot Conlon! For a few minutes there, I was beginning to like you, then you had to go off and screw it all up! _Men_!" She threw her hands in the air in exasperation. Between him and the Delancey brothers, she was going to lose her sanity at any minute!

"What'd I do?" He looked shocked.

"Let's see, in less than 48 hours my world has gone completely topsy-turvey; I'm being referred to as 'Brooklyn's Girl' when we haven't known each other long enough….It takes at least a month of courting before one can be considered the other's girl or boy…" She was suddenly cut off by Spot leaning forward quickly and pressing his lips to hers. He trapped her in a long kiss that sucked the breath out of her. Just when she was enjoying the kiss and returning it, hoping for it to last longer, he pulled away and sat down with a smirk.

She stared at him, speechless.

"Now I know how to get ya to quit ramblin'," he seemed proud of himself. Even prouder, when he saw Jack's jealous scowl.


	4. Chancy & The Late Spot Conlon?

_**Disclaimer: I do not own newsies or any of its characters, Disney does. Floaty, Trench, StarGazer, and Bullet belong to Dimensionaltraveller, Chancy aka Clarisse belongs to me.**_

_**(A/N: Hi everyone! BrennaBerr, thank you so much for the great review. Thank you all so much for the story/author adds and for adding my story to your favorite stories list, and story update list. :-) OK, This chapter needs a little bit of explaining. I wanted to find a way to get Spot and Floaty closer together in a short amount of time, so I decided to bring Floaty's uncle's men out of "retirement." But don't worry; they won't be in the story for too long. :-) Also, near the end, Floaty finally reveals one of her reasons she's afraid to love someone.)**_

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Floaty was still in shock, _Spot kissed me._ For a long minute she thought she was dreaming; but why dream of an annoying boy kissing her? She had always said she wanted to fall in love with someone like Jack; someone who was a little immature (alright, more than a little), but could become a man when needed. She wanted to love someone who wouldn't be afraid of her uncle, or whatever influence he may have. Most of all, she wanted someone to love her for her, not for the man she worked for; and it strangely seemed that she was getting what she asked for. _I didn't ask for a man who thought he was king of the world!_

No. Spot could like her all he wanted and think of her as his queen or destined wife, or whatever it was he saw in her. But she would still look for the man of her dreams: Mature but boy like, strong and cunning, and kind and caring. Were there any men in the world that fit her description? Floaty doubted it, something like that would be considered fiction.

"Ya know, your dinner's gettin' cold," Spot commented as he bit into his hamburger. Floaty glanced down at her meal, a hot dog and French fries. Not exactly a healthy meal before bed, but it was food within her price range. Plus, it tasted good.

"Thanks," she muttered and from the corner of her eye she saw a familiar blur with brown hair walk through the door of Tibby's. Turning, she was shocked to find Clarisse walking in with one of her uncle's henchmen, Bullet. _What's she doing with __**him**__?_

"What's the mattah?" Spot inquired, staring at her as if she had a fly on her face.

"Nothing," Floaty muttered, she didn't want to drag Spot into the danger of her uncle's world. A world she thought she been permanently separated from. _I should have remembered, when something seems too good to be true, it's because it is._ The day her uncle had promised to stop having his men chase her, was the day Clarisse had moved into the boarding house. To Floaty she had seemed….A little stupid, and a want to be princess, but when she wasn't in her 'I want what I want' mode, she was a very kind person. _Kind because she had to be._

"Ya didn't like the kiss?" Spot almost seemed heartbroken, but Floaty knew his ego was in the process of becoming bruised. To avoid this she smiled.

"The kiss was amazing," she was being truthful on this too.

"The best one you've ever gotten?" Spot smirked, a confident look in his eyes. Floaty glanced behind him to find Jack had a death grip on his hamburger, which now resembled an overstuffed sandwich since he had squeezed the life out of the poor thing.

She paused and thought of a line Racetrack's old girlfriend had told him once, "Don't bet on it, Romeo."

Spot raised his eyebrow, and Floaty glanced away and towards Clarisse. She was shocked to find the girl staring right back at her. Floaty glanced away and towards Spot, only to find him staring at Clarisse.

"Don't look over at her!"

"Why not? You're eyes are practically comin' out of their sockets starin' at her."

"Spot, do you know one of the reasons why I can't be Brooklyn's girl?"

"No, why?" He looked back at her, clearly startled.

"Have you ever heard of Trench Antoni?"

"Ya mean that real powerful criminal the papes are talkin' about? Yeah, he gives good headlines." Spot took a bite of his meal and swallowed, "Why?"

"He's my uncle….And that girl, over there, is my watcher from what I can figure."

Spot dropped his hamburger, his eyes wide, "What?"

Floaty shook her head and stood up, "Sorry, Spot. But I've gotten you into danger; she was outside when you kissed me. If that winds up going to Trench….I don't want to think about what will happen."

"But Jacky says ya have nothin' to do with yer uncle!"

"Jack told you about him?"

"He said ya had an uncle, but he never said who he was. Look, if yer gonna let Miss English Rose and yer big bad uncle ruin whatever happiness you have, then why bother runnin'? It don't matter what _they_ want. What matters is what _**you**_ want."

_What I want is for my life to return to normal! What I want is for you to leave me alone, and stop spreading this ridiculous rumor that I'm 'Brooklyn's Girl.' _

Floaty sat back down, most of all what she wanted at the moment was a full stomach.

"Sides, ya told me and many others ya were done with runnin'. And I got news, Clarisse there, she ain't one of your uncle's people, she's me second in command." Spot smirked and crossed his arms.

"What?" Floaty stared at him, her eyes wide and jaw hanging open.

"Ya know, keep it open like that and flies may decide to make a nest in there." Spot smirked. "I sent Clarisse….Chancy, to follow ya. She's real good at pretendin' to be someone else."

"Wait a second; Clarisse has been in the boarding house for a year!"

Spot smirked, "Yeah, because she used to be a factory girl, now she's a newsie. I just didn't want ya to know that."

"Spot Conlon! You have your newsies spying on me now? And what is 'Chancy' doing with Bullet?"

Spot looked over at the two, "From what I can see, she's robbin' him blind."

Floaty turned in her seat and had to place her hand over her mouth to muffle a laugh; Bullet and Chancy were kissing, and obviously Bullet was having a great time. Chancy was having a good time robbing the man blind; she took his wallet and pocket watch. _Maybe she's not so bad after all._

Floaty turned, "Why do you have her following me?"

"Brooklyn's gotta protect his property."

"Property?" Floaty stared at him, any feelings she may have had for Spot or Chancy flew out the window. "You know what, Spot? Thanks for dinner, and if I were you, I'd be telling all the newsies to correct that little mistake you made earlier by calling me 'Brooklyn's Girl.' I'm Pulitzer's Messenger Girl; get that through your mind." She growled and reached into her skirt pocket and placed six cents down on the table. She walked out of the restaurant with her head held high. She would never be romantically involved with a man who considered her property; already she was having to cow-tow down to an egotistical newspaper tycoon who saw her as a belonging since she was in his debt. Floaty refused to take that from two men.

"Floaty wait!" She heard Spot calling after her, but ignored. Instead she started to jog towards the boarding house, and then her jog increased to a run. The moment she entered the door she wished she hadn't. Standing in the lobby ahead of her was Star Gazer, her uncle's second in command.

"Go away! You know what Trench said, leave me be!"

Star Gazer raised an eyebrow, "I take you've had a bad night?" He sat down in one of the wooden chairs in front of the fireplace, "Well good, because that makes two of us. Your uncle is livid by the fact you're dating that snot-nosed brat, Spot Conlon. He's been yelling in my ear all day, 'Do something about this! I will not have my niece dating street garbage; one day she will come around and see herself as the special and privileged person she is!'" He pushed a strand of his dark brown hair behind his ear.

"I'm not dating Spot Conlon," Floaty growled, "And even if I were, it's my business, none of his! I do what I want, see who I want, and speak the way I want. Now leave before I call the police." She crossed her arms and glared at him.

"Not until the problem is solved."

"Just leave!"

"I will in a few minutes," he replied. Star Gazer had long dark brown hair and high cheekbones, his skin was a light shade of brown and he talked with a thick Spanish accent. From what Floaty knew about him he was born in Brazil to his mother, a Brazilian beauty, and his father, some kind of explorer. He brought Star Gazer back to America, dumped him in middle of New York, and returned to his explorations in foreign lands. Somehow Star Gazer and Trench met, and the rest was history.

Floaty paused as she thought about his words, "What are you talking about when you say 'not until the problem is solved'? You had better not be trying to harm Spot!"

Star Gazer just shrugged.

"What have you done with him?" Floaty growled, wishing she hadn't run out of the restaurant. _Stupid, stupid, immature move! I tell everyone I'm no longer running, and what do I do? I run instead of talking it out! I hate my temper!_

"Let's just say Mr. Conlon is going for a swim," Star Gazer stood up, smirked at Floaty and handed her a small pouch filled with coins. "A gift from your uncle, later on this week I'll return with a carriage to come and get you. No more running, Emmalyn. It's time to be a big girl and come home."

"Trench-"

"You uncle."

"_Trench_ said my life was up to me now, he'd have no part of it any longer!"

Star Gazer looked at her for a long minute and laughed, "For an intelligent young woman, you are naive! My employer, your _uncle_, is a criminal Emmalyn, and a powerful one at that. I think you should stop running and get your head on straight; these street rats will be poor, penniless, and homeless all their lives. You'll be rich, powerful, and you'll never have to work a day in your life thanks to your uncle. He's a respectable man." He turned and walked out of the boarding house, still laughing.

Floaty's heart pounded, they were throwing Spot into the ocean! She prayed he was still alive. But at which harbor? _Trench lives in Manhattan….No, that's too close, he'd realize I'd go after Spot and try to save him. Trench is sarcastic and Spot calls himself the King of Brooklyn…The Brooklyn Harbor._

Floaty ran out of the boarding house and straight to the Manhattan Lodging House, she startled Kloppman and Jack who both stood in the lobby talking to one another.

"Jack! I have no time to explain, Spot's in danger. I think he's in the Brooklyn harbor, actually in there. I'm not sure! I'll explain later!"

Jack jumped, "Newsies, Spot's in trouble! Get your bums down here!" He shouted, he looked at Floaty, "We'll take all the Manhattan Harbors and we'll follow ya to Brooklyn!"

Floaty nodded, then turned, and ran. _I'm never going to make it in time on foot!_ She panted and looked around the street; a man was turning away from his horse to go into a saloon. She untied the horse's reigns from the hitching post and jumped on top of the animal's back and rode off towards Brooklyn. Her heart pounded and she could think of was poor Spot trying to hold his breath and struggle towards the surface of the water. _Please don't die, Spot!_

The horse skidded to a halt in front of the Brooklyn docks minutes later. Floaty had arrived just in time to see a metal chain slipping off the docks and into the ocean. Two of her uncle's men were walking off the dock laughing and slapping one another on the shoulder.

"That boy tried, but he didn't make it too far!" One howled in laughter.

"He cursed us enough to put a drunken sailor to shame!" Laughed the other.

Floaty wanted to wait until they were gone, but knew time was running out for Brooklyn's King. She took turns hopping on each foot as she pulled her boots off to avoid the loud clunking on the docks when she ran. She shrugged out of her clothing, wearing nothing more than her camisole and unmentionables (underwear). Taking a deep breath, Floaty sunk into the shadows and crab walked past the two men who had paused at the base of the docks to take a long draw from their flasks. She ran towards where she saw the chain and knelt down; the metal chain was still sinking into the ocean, she noticed however it didn't go straight down but seemed to be attached to something.

Leaning forward into the moonlight she saw it was attached to a piece of the sunken ship that had taken her and Spot from Ireland to America. She guessed Spot was somewhere down there. Taking a deep breath, Floaty dived into the ocean and swam down towards the ocean floor. She found the heavy metal chain resting in the sand and gripped hold of it. After almost a minute she surfaced for air, took a deep breath, and plunged under the water again. She swam and followed the length of the chain halfway out of the harbor. She soon found Spot; the ocean water caused his body to float, and the only thing holding him to the ship was the length of chain tied around his ankles, hanging from the tail of the chain was a heavy wooden crate labeled 'Machine Gears.'

Floaty swam to the surface and took in another deep breath before sinking back down into the ocean. She kept a tight grip on the chain and used it to pull herself down to Spot. Glancing up at him she felt her heart tear in half at finding his lips and face blue. _Please God, if you let him live, I'll do anything! Please, don't let him die!_ She began working at the knot of chains around his ankles and curses suddenly filled her mind when she couldn't get the last knot undone. When her chest began to ache and her vision blurred, she knew it was time to swim back to the surface, but Spot didn't have enough time for that! She tugged and pulled at the knot until it finally came loose and sent Spot's body floating towards the ocean's surface. She pressed her feet against the upturned bottom of the ship and propelled off of it, she was sent forward quickly and only had to kick a few times until she reached the face.

Floaty reached the surface and coughed and focused on breathing for quick moment, she turned and found Spot; she swam towards him and wrapped her arms around his waist.

"Come on, Spot, you're not the King of Brooklyn for nothing. You're tough, and your strong, you're not going to die on me!" She began swimming back towards the docks, pulling Spot with her. She glanced around; she didn't see the newsies anywhere. _Damn!_ They must have still been on their way; she had arrived so quickly because she stole a horse. When she finally made it to the short ladder of the docks, Floaty paused; there was no way she could get him up there. Turning, she eyed the shore and swam towards it. Once her feet hit the bottom she looped her arms under Spot's shoulders and pulled him onto dry land.

"Spot!" Floaty shouted, he didn't move. _What do I do? What do I do? What was that old seaman's trick father taught me?_ She glanced up at the stars and suddenly she remembered. Bending she pressed her lips to Spot's and exhaled into his mouth a few times, then knelt beside him and pressed repeatedly on his chest. "C'mon, Spot, c'mon!" She begged, she was almost certain he was going to die when a gurgling noise came from his mouth. He coughed and Floaty quickly turned him onto his side as he retched up the water that had filled his lungs and stomach. She pounded on his back, "That's it, Spot, that's it!"

When he slumped and his body relaxed, Floaty rolled him onto his back then knelt in front of him and pulled his head into her lap. She looked down at him, her expression filled with fear and concern.

Spot stared up at her, "Are you an angel?"

Floaty shook her head, "No…No…Spot…It…It's me, Floaty."

"Fl…Floaty?" He stared at her for a long moment, "Ya pulled me outta there?"

She nodded, sniffling and wiping tears from her eyes. "Are you ok?"

"Who were those guys?"

"They work for my uncle…"

"Yer a hazard," he a commented.

The comment had stung, but it was true. She was a danger, because of who her family was.

"But one worth keepin'," Spot smirked, "Thank ya." He remained lying down for a few minutes more. "Why did ya save me? I thought ya hated me."

"I don't hate you, I was being stupid and letting my temper do the talking."

"I see, but I want ya to know yer no longer Floaty. You're Angel," he smiled, "Me angel…Brooklyn's angel. Ya saved me life."

"It wasn't me alone, Spot. I had help. A lot of it."

"Floaty!" Jack and a group of newsies, both Manhattan and Brooklyn, shouted as they ran over. "Ya found him!"

Floaty nodded.

When the newsies got close enough, they turned the other way.

"What the hell?" Spot muttered.

"Um…" Floaty blushed. Spot sat up and turned, his eyes widening. He stared at her up and down as she crossed her arms over her chest and blushed.

"Will you look the other way?" She snapped.

"And miss out on me reward for livin'? Nuh-uh," he replied, taking his fill. Floaty blushed harder, her unmentionables were stuck to her, as was the camisole, and they gave room for little imangination. Finally, Racetrack came over with her clothing and tossed it to her. Floaty glanced around darted behind a stack of crates. She pulled her camisole and undergarments off.

"If anyone looks I'll throw you into the harbor!" She threatened as she pulled her blouse and skirt on. She was completely relieved when a young woman with long black hair ran over and handed her a pair of underpants.

"Thanks," Floaty smiled.

The girl nodded, "It's nice to finally meet the girl who won our leader's heart. I'm Alley by the way."

"It's nice to meet you," Floaty smiled, Alley returned the smile then walked away so Floaty could have her privacy. When she was completely redressed she stood up and walked out from behind the crates. She hadn't gotten very far when Spot suddenly scooped her into his arms.

"Spot! Put me down, I don't even know why you still like me after that! I almost got you killed!"

"_You_ saved me, it was ya uncle that tried ta kill me," Spot retorted. "Jacky-boy, from now on Floats stays in Brooklyn."

"Uh, Spot, there ain't no way," Jack shook his head. "Pulitzer would go crazy, and Floats would lose her job."

Spot scowled, "Yeah, so?"

"She's the one tellin' us Pulitzah's every move?"

"Damn," He muttered, "Well then, she's just gonna hafta leave early in the mornin' I guess. She stays wid me from now on."

Jack paused, "Spot…"

"Don't worry, Jacky-boy, I got a way to get her to work on time." With that he carried Floaty towards the Brooklyn lodging house, an old structure across from the docks that looked ready to cave in. He carried Floaty up into his room and carefully set her on the bed.

"Spot…"

"I'm gonna take a shower and warm up as much as I can," he commented as he began to unbutton his shirt. He set his cap (which he had found on the way back to the lodging house) down on the bed. "That was a brave thing ya did, Floaty. Ya didn't have to risk yer own life to save mine, but ya did. I owe ya."

"You owe me nothing."

"I owe ya me life. You're stayin' here from now on, understand? No arguin'. Chancy will bring yer stuff in the mornin'. Ya belong to me now." Floaty glanced down at his hands, she knew they were shaking because he was terrified and cold.

"Spot, we should talk about what happened…"

"There ain't nothin' to talk about. All I know, is that when yer uncle's trial comes up, I'll gladly speak against him."

Floaty nodded, "I'm sorry."

"Quit apologizin' for somethin' that wasn't your fault."

"It was my fault," She stood. "If I hadn't run out of the restaurant like that –"

"They woulda gotten hold of me after I walked ya home." Spot snapped, "So quit feelin' sorry and start gettin' ready for bed. Alley a left a nightgown for ya over the doorknob."

Floaty flinched when he threw his door open and slammed it shut behind him. She took hold of the old and worn nightgown and quickly changed. _Laurie's going to be worried. I'll stop by the factory tomorrow and let her know I'm alright._ A few minutes later, Spot walked back in.

"C'mon, I'll show ya to your new room."

"Spot…."

He turned, "Yeah?"

"Thanks."

He stared at her puzzled, "For what? It's me who need ta thank you, remember?"

She shook her head, "Thank you for not giving up on me."

He smirked, although he tried to appear confident and untouchable the expression on his face shouted that Spot Conlon was not invincible. "I knew ya'd come around sooner or later."

"Wait, come around? I'm thanking you for not giving up on me as a friend."

Spot paused then chuckled, "Like it or not, Floats, you and I are more than friends now. Why did ya think I brought ya to me bedroom and let ya stay there while I bathed?"

She frowned. Spot was giving a show of power: Showing all his newsies she belonged to him.

"After all that's happened tonight, you're still going to play this game of yours?"

Spot smirked, "It ain't a game, Floaty, it's a matter of the heart. Get used to it, until ya see things me way, you're stayin' in Brooklyn."

"Spot Conlon! You nearly died today…."

"Yeah, I did, and ya saved me. I heard ya shoutin' at me not to die, I know ya have feelin's for me, and I'm gonna be here waitin' for ya to admit that."

"Spot…" she warned, after today she wasn't sure if she'd ever admit she loved anyone. Love meant it would hurt when the person you loved died and yet love also meant happiness. The concept of love was just as confusing to Floaty as Spot was.

"Yes, I will join the newsie strike."

Floaty paused and stared at him, once again he had shocked her into silence. How was it that he was able to surprise her so easily? She sighed in confusion and followed the newsie king to her new room.


	5. Spot's Nightmare & Brooklyn's Girl

_**Disclaimer: I do not own Newsies or any of its characters, they belong to Disney. I do not own Floaty, she belongs to DimensionalTraveller. Joshua, Eve, and Chancy are mine. **_

_**(A/N: Hi everyone, thank you all so much for the amazing reviews! :-) I'm so glad that you all liked the last chapter. Thank you to the authors who added me to their favorite story/author list and story update lists. The reviews and story/author-adds mean a lot to me, you all are awesome!)**_

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"Get ya hands off me, ya bums! I'm Brooklyn, ya know who your messin' with?"

Floaty jolted awake and turned over to stare at the wall beside her bunk; on the other side of the wall was Spot's room. Floaty threw the thin sheet and blanket off of her and crawled out of bed. She rushed out into the hallway to find Chancy standing in front of Spot's door, her hand balled in a fist and hovering in front of the closed wooden door.

"Go back to bed, Floaty. I'm Spot's second in command, this is my job." She sneered as she knocked on the door.

"Get ya hands off me!" Spot shouted, he was still trapped in his nightmare.

"I'm going in there," Floaty exclaimed as she pushed Chancy out of the way, now was no time for a stupid argument Chancy had started back in the boarding house. It was a one sided argument which Floaty never got herself involved in. She began twisting the doorknob and jiggled it, but the door remained shut.

Chancy smirked, "Spot always locks his door. He and my doors are the only ones in the entire lodgin' house with locks." She placed her hands on her hips and appeared to take pride in this. "Your door doesn't have a lock, so obviously you're not as important as ya think you are."

"You know, it's interesting, when you're angry that cute little British accent of yours seems to disappear," Floaty exclaimed.

Chancy's mouth opened and shut a few times, "Well, I've lived in New York for 10 years….So of course it won't always be around!"

Floaty glanced over her shoulder at the other girl, "Whatever, listen, Chancy I don't care. I'm not going to argue with you." She reached into her hair and grabbed a bobby pin, then knelt down so she was at eye level with the lock above the door knob. She slipped the bobby pin in and began feeling for the lock's tumblers.

"How do you know how to do that?" Chancy crossed her arms and leaned against the wall. "You seem way too lady-like to be skulking around in the darkness picking locks." A thin smile crossed the girl's lips, "I know the lady-like-attitude is nothing more than a cover to hide who you really are – a greedy Irish pig who wants nothing more than men, power, and money."

Floaty slowly as her temper began to flare. Being Irish and Italian, she had a bad temper; one Spot had been witness to over the last two days. She wanted to do nothing more than turn around to the girl, hit her, and shout at her to shut up. But that would be sinking down to Chancy's level, and at the same time she'd be falling into the newsgirl's trap. Chancy wanted her gone, out of the lodging house permanently; the fact Spot had sent her to get Floaty's items and move them into the lodging house had bruised her ego…and her hopes for the future.

"You're not saying anything for two reasons: One, because you'd look unlady-like, and two you're too stupid to come up with a good comeback."

Floaty shifted and knew listening to the other girl was a waste of her time. She recalled her father's suggestion: _When someone is trying to make you angry so you'll mess up, ignore them and focus on whatever task ye're doing. If you're not paying attention to them, then they will be the ones to mess up._ She focused on picking the lock; so far she had two tumblers in the unlocked position, only three more to go. Five minutes, and three shouts from Spot, later the tumblers were unlocked and Floaty was able to twist the door knob and push the door open. She ran over to Spot's side and placed her hands on his arm, fully prepared to shake him. It wasn't until she recalled what her father had said about a person having a nightmare she stopped and instead of shaking him, she began rubbing his shoulder.

"Spot," she said in a soft tone of voice, "You're safe, everything's OK now, you're just having a nightmare."

Spot let out a small groan and after a few minutes of Floaty rubbing his shoulder, he calmed down. Floaty was about to leave the room when she saw his eyes open and a small smile cross his face. Her eyebrows raised in surprise.

"You're awake?"

"Yeah, I woke up from hearin' Chancy. Never knew she had such a loud mouth," he exclaimed as he sat up and glanced towards the hallway. Floaty followed his gaze and had to keep herself from smirking at seeing Chancy edge away from the doorway and into the hall. She knew she shouldn't be happy that the other girl had gotten into trouble, but she was human. Spot suddenly looked back at her, "How did ya get into me room?"

"I uh…Picked the lock," she admitted as her cheeks began to burn. "You sounded so scared in your nightmare, and I wanted to help you…."

Spot's eyes had narrowed, his lips were pressed together forming a tight line, and his face was beet red. "Spot Conlon has no fear of anythin'!"

Floaty paused, the experience he had undergone was traumatic, for Pete's sake, he nearly lost his life! He, of all people, could be afraid without worrying about being scorned for 'cowardice'. _Either you have it out with him now and help him, or he's going to keep this fearless act going and he'll wind up driving himself insane._ She walked over and shut the door to his bedroom. He stared at her with a look of confusion as she took a match and lit one of the oil lamps; when the golden glow filled the room, Floaty noticed Spot was shirtless and blushed. In turn, he smirked and pushed the sheets down lower.

"Quit that!" Floaty snapped as she pulled the sheets up to his shoulders, "Don't talk, just listen. For once, I'm doing the talking. What you went through….It was terrifying and traumatic, you were nearly killed. If I had been a minute later, you may have been dead, as it were….You were heading towards that bright tunnel people say they see when they die." She paused and took a moment to gather her emotions. She had only known Spot for two days, by all means he should still feel like a stranger to her; however, strangely, she felt as if she had known him forever. The mere thought of losing him wasn't scaring her, it terrified her beyond words…and for the very life of her she couldn't understand why or how she had grown so attached to him in 48 hours.

"Floaty…"

Floaty held up her hand, "I'm _not_ finished. What you experienced did not only scare you, it scared _every single newsie_ and _me_. You, of all people, do not need to go around acting like nothing happened. You have every right to be afraid, and every person would agree with me on this, trust me. What happened to you, that fear and trauma isn't going to go away overnight, it's going to be awhile….But you need to know, even if you choose not to acknowledge your emotions….You need to know that I'm here for you, whenever you need me. Whether it's to talk, just to have someone to sit with, or even hug."

Spot stared at her for a long minute, an expression of shock crossed his face, but it was quickly replaced by a smile, "So ya do like me."

Floaty was about to get up and walk away, but when she looked at him she realized the smile was nothing more than a cover-up. Spot's icy blue eyes seemed to be warm and they were glazed over with unshed tears, his hands were shaking, and he looked terrified. Without waiting for another minute, Spot sat up and Floaty pulled him into her arms and cuddle him close.

"It's okay," she said softly as she ran her fingers through his hair, much like a mother would do when comforting a child, "It's alright now." She could feel Spot's shoulders begin to shake as tears poured from his eyes; his sobs were quiet as kept his arms around her. She could feel his tears soaking into Alley's nightgown, but didn't care if it got wet or not. Spot needed comfort, and she was going to give it to him.

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Spot Conlon was indeed nearly fearless and he tried to act like his attempted murder hadn't bothered him. Floaty had been the only one to see through his bravado, she called him on it, and she comforted him for almost an hour that night before falling to sleep. Now, the birds were beginning to chirp, and the sky was gray, revealing the sun would soon rise. He wished the night could last for a few hours longer. He looked down at Floaty, she was curled up beside him and his arms were wrapped around her.

She had fallen asleep and Spot had decided that it was time for him to take care of her. For once he had her where he wanted her, in his arms, and she wasn't trying to run off. _She's gonna wake up soon and dart outta this room like her hairs on fire._ He thought to himself with a frown, he had been asking Jack and the other Manhattan newsies why she acted this way around him. Jack guessed it was because she was trying to avoid falling in love; Blink assumed it was because she didn't want to the girl of the week (which she would never be in Spot's book); and Racetrack figured it was because of Pulitzer and Trench. If Spot had to guess, he would agree with Race. He could tell Floaty liked him, but something seemed to keep her from going from 'liking' him to 'loving' him.

_It's only been two days, and I know I love her. What if she's still in love with Jacky-boy and that's why she won't even try to be more than friends?_ His eyes narrowed, he had seen Jack's jealousy back in Tibby's. Cowboy obviously still had feelings for Floaty, could she still have feelings for him? It didn't matter if she did or not; Spot wanted Floaty, and he was going to have her all for himself. _It just means I'm gonna hafta work real hard to win her over._

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Floaty woke to the singing of a few chirping birds, but it was the ray of sunlight across her face that had awakened her. Her eyes opened and she froze at feeling a warmth beside and around her; her heart pounded as she looked around the room. Where was she? The memories from the previous night came back to her; she had moved into Spot's lodging house, against her will of course. Then she had snuck into Spot's room and comforted him, he seemed much better by the time she fell…to…sleep….Wait a second, when she fell to sleep she didn't recall walking back to her own room.

Shocked, she looked up to see Spot smiling down at her.

"Mornin'," he greeted with shining eyes and a large smile.

Her eyes widened, "I feel asleep here?"

"Yeah, after ya comforted me, which was real nice of ya."

She began to scoot towards the edge of the bed, but Spot's arms tightened around her waist, "Just wait," he said, "You're in Brooklyn now, remember? Ya can't go runnin' off to work cause you'll be late. I really appreciate your help last night, cause I was scared….But I ain't anymore, cause I had an angel watchin' over me. Look, I may not be your favorite person, but all I'm askin' is that ya stop tryin' to avoid me from now on."

Floaty opened her mouth to say something, but Spot held up his hand and mirrored her actions and speech last night, "Now, for once I'm gonna do the talkin'. You listen. I talk."

She shut her mouth and glared at him with a look of irritation.

"Now, whether ya like it or not, your Brooklyn's girl…And don't say ya ain't, cause ya are. Ya saved me life and ya comforted me, and that seems like more than friendship to me. Yeah, friends do comfort one another, but I could tell that ya like me, even if ya don't want to admit it. I just wanna know one thing, what is it that I've done to you that's so horrible that ya try to avoid me?"

She stared at him, shocked; she had never expected that question. She took a moment to gather her thoughts. _Why_ didn't she want to fall in love with him? Truly? He was handsome, caring, and was practically pouring his heart out to her. Wasn't that what every girl wanted? Every relationship had a risk of heart break; and part of that heartbreak could mean the person died. He had _cried _in front of her last night, and Spot Conlon never cried in front of anyone.

She took a deep breath, "Because, everyone I've loved, save for Jack, have all died. My mother, my father, and my daughter."

Spot turned onto his side, he placed his elbow on his pillow and rested the side of his face against the back of his hand. "Emmalyn, look at me, people all throughout our lives die, and it ain't because some person loves them. Love can't kill. Obsession can, but not love. What happened to your father was terrible, I'm sorry about your mother, and I don't know what words to express me sympathy when it comes to your child. But it was fate, that baby wasn't supposed to life, just like if your father lived he may have been miserable and coulda easily died from heart break. Fate knows when it's someone's time, and it was just their time. Look at me, it wasn't my time….If ya want proof, look at yourself in that mirror. If it had been me time to die, ya wouldn't have reached me in time. But ya did reach me in time. So what does that tell ya?"

Floaty paused, "That it's alright….To have the emotions I have for you."

Spot nodded and pulled her close, "So Floaty, what do ya say?"

She looked up at him, "I like you, but I don't love you. But if you give me some time, I know I'll fall in love with you….And if I don't…." she was never given her chance to finish her sentence; Spot trapped her in a long and passionate kiss.

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Twenty minutes later, Floaty found herself and Spot standing outside of restaurant. Floaty was confused, Spot was calm and laid back and occasionally checked the streets.

"Why are we standing out here?" Floaty muttered as she glanced in through the restaurant's glass, the grandfather clock was showing it was 7:15. _If I leave now, I'll only be ten minutes late…But that's still too late. Pulitzer's going to fire me._

Spot looked at her, "Waitin' for some friends of mine. They deliver milk to Manhattan and Brooklyn restaurants; this is always their first stop of the day." The moment he finished explaining, a large wooden milk wagon being pulled by two Clydesdale horses came to a stop.

"Dakota, boys, Dakota…." Exclaimed an elderly African American man, he pulled back the reigns gently and stopped in front of the restaurant door. "Well, good morning, your majesty. What brings ya here this time o' morning?" He gave a kind and friendly smile, his dark brown eyes twinkled, and Floaty couldn't help but to like the man.

"Heya, Joshua, I'm here with me girl here, Floaty. She works for the World, she's Pulitzah's messengah, and she's gonna be late. I was wonderin' if I could call in a favor?"

"Of course you can, ya want me to take her to the World?"

Spot nodded, "I swear, this Thursday I'll help you delivah the milk!"

"Oh no," Joshua shook his head, "No, suh-ree Bob, nuh-uh. Last time _that_ happened, I nearly got fired since all those girls screamed and rushed over to you. I'm surprised you made it out of there in one piece!"

"You're surprised who made it out in piece?" A young voice questioned, Floaty was surprised to see a little girl poke her head out from the back of the wagon. All the tall milk bottles had been hiding her tiny form.

Joshua laughed, "Remember Mr. Conlon, Eve?"

"You mean New York's _King_?" She stood up and climbed over the milk bottles, "Hi King Conlon, _I'm_ a princess!" She beamed.

Spot beamed, took off his hat, and gave a bow, "Your highness, Princess Eve, it is lovely to see ya again. You're very pretty, as always," he stood and winked. The little girl giggled and climbed onto the cart's bench to sit beside her grandfather.

Spot turned to Floaty, "Joshua here has the best wheels in Brooklyn, and you'll be to work in no time." He took Floaty's hand and helped her climb up onto the cart's bench, where she sat beside Eve. He turned back to Joshua, "I really owe ya, you sure this won't put ya behind schedule?"

Joshua smiled, "We'll be fine, we'll just going to do things a little differently today. See you later for the favor!" He raised his hand in a wave and flicked the reigns and steered the horses in the direction of the Brooklyn Bridge.

Spot raised his hand and waved to the three, Floaty turned and waved back to him, "Thanks, Spot!" She called out.

"So, how long have you been with Spot?" Joshua questioned after they rounded the corner.

"Well, two days and twelve hours or somewhere around there."

"That's it?" Joshua's eyebrows rose, "He never asks me to bring just anyone to Manhattan, you know."

Floaty blushed, "We met the other day when Jack told Spot about the newsie strike, since then he's followed me and dubbed me 'Brooklyn's Girl'."

"You alright with that?"

"I wasn't at first," Floaty shrugged, "And I'm a little more open to the idea….But…."

"You're skeptical?"

Floaty nodded, "Exactly. I like him, but I don't love him. I don't like to jump into relationships without knowing anything about the person, other than the fact he's. I've only had one other romantic relationship, and that was with the Manhattan Newsie Leader, Jack 'Cowboy' Kelly. We started out as friends, and then became lovers." She paused, "Sorry."

"You have no need to be sorry, I asked. Well, here, I'll give you some more information on Spot. I met him when he was 8 years old; he was a guttersnipe," he paused and explained, "That means he was homeless and on the streets. He made his living by pick-pocketing and stealing, in fact he tried to still my milk cart! I put an end to that real fast, and back then, I was good friends with the Brooklyn leader of that time. A girl named Martina 'Marti' Duff. She was one tough girl, let me put it this way – the reputation Spot has is equal to hers."

"You're joking?" Floaty's eyes widened, it amazed her that the Brooklyn Leader before Spot was a girl…and that she was just as tough as him.

"No, I kid you not. She was a beautiful girl, in matter of fact, it strange….You look just like her." He paused and shook his head, "Well, anyway, after I found Spot I brought him to Marti and told her I had a new kid for her – a pick pocket and a thief, so she'd have to keep her eyes peeled. She did just that too; I visited her three months later and Spot Conlon was a new boy. He was no longer stealing and he was all about protecting Brooklyn and all the newsies in New York. Didn't know it at the time, but Marti was trainin' him to become the new Brooklyn leader."

"I wonder why….Other than the fact he was born for it?" She smirked; she realized what she said a moment later and blushed hard. "Oh crud…"

Joshua laughed, "Well, you definitely like Spot. That's good; you can't have a good relationship without liking the person who's in it with you. Marti was trainin' him because he was tough and she liked him, he was smart and he knew how to hold his own. She was also trainin' him because she had Cancer and she was dyin'. When Spot turned 13, Marti gave him her hat, cane, and the skeleton to the Brooklyn Lodging House, making him the King of Brooklyn. She died a week later. Spot upheld her memory and now he has his reputation, which he'll one day pass on to some other newsie he'll train."

"You don't think he….Likes me for the fact that I look like Marti, do you?"

Joshua paused, "I don't know. I don't think so, because he treats ya differently than he treated Marti. With Marti he was respectful, but he never treated her like a lady, she was one of the guys. He's kind and gentle with you, and he treats you with respect, and he treats you like the lady you are." He smiled, "I have no doubt that _you're_ the lady he loves and he's been waiting for."

"In other words, I'm no longer a lady in waiting."

He laughed and nodded, "Yes you are, and you make sure he treats you with respect, and if there's ever a day he doesn't, you come and get me. I can be found delivering milk to Brooklyn and Manhattan from early morning to around ten, then I work at Tibby's as a waiter for the rest of the day."

"I'll keep that in mind, thank you so much Joshua," Floaty smiled as he pulled the reigns and stopped in front of the World Building. "I owe you."

He shook his head, "Nah, Spot owes me. Eve, hold on to the bench."

"Okay, granddaddy, by Miss Floaty!" The little girl smiled and waved.

"By Princess Eve," Floaty smiled and gave a curtsey; she then turned and walked into the World building. She walked into Pulitzer's office just as the clock struck eight a.m., and when she walked in she was not greeted by only Pulitzer and Sykes, but by Weasel as well.


	6. Ending the Strike? & Floaty's Choice

**_Disclaimer: I do not own Newsies or its characters, they belong to Disney. Floaty and Sport belong to DimensionalTraveller. Chancy and Timothy Duff belong to me._**

**_(A/N: Hi everyone, thank you all so, so much for the awesome reviews, story adds, and story alerts! Special thanks to Firefly Conlon – your review really brightened my day and helped me with this chapter. I'm so sorry this chapter took so long everyone; I had to write my final paper for my anthropology course – a ten page paper about indigenous cultures in America. And here is the next chapter. :-) Special thanks to Leah.)_**

"I don't think they're just going to go away, Chief." Sykes exclaimed from in front of the bookcase; standing beside him with hat in hand was Mr. Wiesel, better known as Weasel. Floaty's gaze trailed over to the window; Pulitzer was pacing in front of it with his thumbs hooked in his vest pockets. The expression on his face said more than words; he was angry at the newsies. No doubt he thought they had gone too far with their strike, the singing and dancing, and then destroying the papers in the World Distribution Center.

"Mr. Pulitzah," Weasel exclaimed as he lifted his hand nervously, "Sir? Just give me the means, and I'll take care of it for ya."

Floaty swallowed; _This is not good. I need to get those messages and find Jack. I have to warn him!_ She glanced towards Pulitzer's desk and her eyebrows drew together in confusion. Why where there no messages?

"Use whatever means you require, I want this nonsense done with, for once and for all!" Pulitzer exclaimed so loudly he was nearly shouting.

"Chief-"

"Shut your mouth….Sykes!" Pulitzer's face had turned red, he was pointing at Sykes as if scolding a school boy for doing something naughty. Floaty had seen Pulitzer angry before, but _never_ had she seen him this angry before. For a long minute Sykes and Pulitzer stared at each other; each had different morals. In Pulitzer's mind, if the newsies didn't work they were choosing to throw away their lives and ruin the World's good name while doing so. In Sykes' opinion, the newsies were fighting for their well being, and all Pulitzer had to do was lower the prices. Both men were stubborn; and at the moment they reminded Floaty of the angel and devil cartoons that were always in the papers. In this case, Pulitzer was the devil and Sykes was the angel.

Pulitzer stepped forward suddenly, Sykes backed down with a scowl as Weasel showed himself out. Floaty remained in her usual place, in the right hand corner of the room near one of the tall bookcases, out of the way. _I have to warn Jack!_ She forced herself to appear indifferent, if she didn't she could put her job in jeopardy; but more importantly, Jack and the others could be soaked and thrown into jail, or worse the refuge.

"Emmalyn," Pulitzer exclaimed as he turned towards her, "The messages are my desk, also there is a special message I want you to send." He sat down in his chair and grabbed a piece of stationary from his desk and filled his fountain pen with ink. He wrote a quick and brief message, folded it, and placed it into an envelope and wrote: Timothy Duff 151 Randolph Street, Harlem, NY. Floaty's stomach twisted, _Harlem? I never deliver anything to Harlem! _Floaty's fingers bit into the leather shoulder strap of her messenger bag as her mouth became as dry as cotton. The newsies, especially Spot, always said Harlem was just as dangerous as Brooklyn and the newsies were ruthless when it came to territory wars. _They know about me, but they don't recognize me. I need to calm down, I'm Pulitzer's messenger; if they tried to hurt me they'd have Joseph Pulitzer to face, and they don't want that._

Pulitzer sprinkled the wet ink with salt and handed her the other messages, giving the salt a chance to soak up excess ink, then handed her the envelope. "This needs to be delivered first, and by no means are to you stop for anything or anyone. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir." Floaty replied, "I…I will need help, I've never been in Harlem before, sir."

"It is a dangerous area, sir," Sykes exclaimed, he glanced at Floaty. She knew he knew about herself and Spot, which could be good or bad.

"It's no more dangerous than Brooklyn," Pulitzer said nonchalantly, "Go deliver that message, and make sure Mr. Duff signs your receipt book. The building you're looking for is blue, it's across from the distribution center in Harlem….Or do you need a map?" He sneered.

"No, sir. I can find it."

"Good, be back here no later than early afternoon. I don't want you out on the streets after Mr. Duff repays his favor to me."

"Yes, sir." Floaty nodded and walked towards the door, Sykes followed after her. Before she could step over the threshold, Sykes grabbed her shoulder and whispered in her ear.

"Tell your newsie friends where you're going; Harlem is more dangerous than Brooklyn. I won't even allow my daughter there."

She gave a tiny nod and stepped forward when he let her go, and as usual the door slammed shut behind her. Floaty walked past Agatha's desk and was expecting a nasty comment from the woman. Instead, to her surprise, Agatha and Weasel were both staring at her with a look of pity.

"It ain't safe in Harlem," Weasel exclaimed, "I'll walk ya downstairs and Oscar will take ya there."

"You don't have to do that, Mr. Wiesel, I know you have a busy day," she gave a tiny smile. "You're a hard worker and I don't want to be a burden."

Weasel scoffed, "You ain't no burden, da newsies are." He walked her outside and Floaty knew he was sucking up to her. _Good thing he's a brown noser, I don't want to go into Harlem alone, I hope Oscar can keep up with me._ When they reached the distribution center, Weasel told Oscar to go with Floaty, and to her surprise, he also ordered Oscar to take one of the newspaper wagons. The younger Delancey went around the back of the building and returned a few minutes later with a large wagon, being led by two brown horses. Before Floaty could begin to climb up onto the foot board, Morris came up behind her and lifted her onto the seat.

"Thank you, Morris." She smiled.

He tipped his hat, "Sure thing, Floaty. Hey, da propah English yer teachin' me is really helpin' me to win Clarisse over!" He beamed.

"Well, I'm very glad to hear that, soon you'll be a junior reporter before you know it." _I'm not going to be the one to tell him he's dating Spot's second in command._ Oscar flicked the reigns and the horses began to walk towards Harlem. During most of the trip both she and Oscar were silent; she was hoping it would remain that way. Although she was grateful for the Delancey's protection, she was also wary. He would probably consider this a favor, and that meant it would have to be paid back.

"So, I heard ya moved to Brooklyn," Oscar exclaimed as the wagon entered Harlem.

_Of course he chooses now to mention this._ "Yes, I did. The boarding house is becoming too full and I've overstayed my welcome there."

"Da factory girls pushin' ya out?" He seemed amused by this.

"No. It was my own decision."

"No reason to get all feisty on me, I was just askin'. So, how come Pulitzah hasn't learned that yer Brooklyn's girl?"

Floaty tensed, "He may have heard, and chooses to ignore it."

"With all that's goin' on, ya really believe dat line of bull ya just gave me?" Oscar snorted as they rounded a corner; a newsboy around Jack's age shouted something about an escaped convict killing someone. Floaty had seen the morning paper on Pulitzer's desk, the headline was: Ex-Convict Seen Killing Seagull.

"He probably doesn't know, but I don't put anything past him. He's an intelligent man." Floaty shrugged, she guessed anything she said to Oscar would be repeated word for word to Pulitzer. That's how it worked with Oscar Delancey, the Stool Pigeon.

"Yeah he is," Oscar agreed as he stopped in front of a blue building. It unnerved Floaty how had gotten here so fast without complications. _Obviously, he's been here before and he knows these people._ Oscar hopped down from the cart's seat and walked around to her, then picked her up and set her down. He gave a bow and gestured to the door, "After you, Miss Emmalyn."

"Whatever you're up too, stop." Floaty warned as she walked over to the blue door and knocked on it. A small rectangular peep hole in the door was slid open, and a pair of dark brown eyes stared at her.

"State yer business. If yer here for a job, I'll need to see the goods…" The man's eyes traveled up and down Floaty's form, causing her to blush with humiliation.

"She's wid me, Tim." Oscar exclaimed, standing beside Floaty, "This here is Pulitzah's messenger, Emmalyn, you'll treat her with respect." He squeezed her shoulder.

"Oscar Delancey," Tim exclaimed as he shut the peep hole and threw open the door, "Well, well, m'boy, it's been some time!" To Floaty's surprise, Timothy Duff was old, around Pulitzer's age, and he wore the remains of an old Union uniform.

"I need you to sign this," Floaty exclaimed as she grabbed the note and her receipt book. She handed the man her fountain pen.

"Hell! Anyone would think this 'un to be a commandin' officer with that order!" Tim hollered with laughter, he signed the book and took the message then ripped the envelope's top open. "2 PM sharp – meet da newsies at the Manhattan World Distribution Center, bring your men. Ya know what to do, well hell, he's allowin' me to beat up those loud mouthed pests. Ya and your brother wanna join in the fun?" He glanced up at Oscar and used the sleeve of his shirt to wipe the sweat off his forehead.

"We'd be honored," Oscar beamed.

"Now, little lady, ya come here any time with news like this. And ya really should apply here," he opened the door a little farther and Floaty wished she would have looked away sooner. Burlesque dancers stood atop a stage dancing in front of a rowdy crowd of men.

"I wouldn't work for you if my life depended on it," she snapped and turned towards the cart.

"That's one feisty lady, ya got, Oscar. Ya keep her close, or some other lad will get her."

"Some other 'lad' _did_ get her. Ya ever hear of Spot Conlon?" Oscar's voice was sharp with disgust.

"The Street Rat King himself, so that girl's his queen." Tim chuckled. After Floaty climbed atop the foot board of the cart she looked back and noticed the two men were whispering and glancing at her every now and then. That wasn't a good sign; she curled her fingers around the edge of her seat.

"Oscar, Mr. Pulitzer wants me back in a few hours, now unless you want to be the reason I'm late I suggest you hurry it up." Floaty hoped she sounded strong and uncaring. _Anything_ to get that disgusting Timothy Duff away from her.

"Yeah, yeah," Oscar grumbled as he shook the old man's hand then climbed into his seat and flicked the reigns. Floaty was all too ready to return to Manhattan, but Oscar seemed intent on keeping the horses in a slow walk.

Once they were out of Harlem, Floaty began to stand.

"Woah, hey! Whaddaya think you're doin'?" Oscar grabbed hold of her wrist and pulled her back into her seat. "Ya could fall."

"Oscar, not even the world's klutziest person could fall at the pace these horses are going. I'm getting off this cart, whether you stop or not."

"Now why would ya want to do that? Maybe to warn those newsie friends of yers?"

Floaty glared at him, "To get away from the stench."

Oscar snarled, "Watch yer tongue, tootsie. Whether ya like it or not, one day you're gonna be Mrs. Delancey, so it's best ya start treatin' me with respect now."

Floaty pulled her wrist away from him, "Dream on, Oscar. There is no way in Hades I'd ever marry you. Whoever, or whatever, gave you that idea had very misleading information."

"Oh no, this information is perfectly valid," Oscar smirked as he pulled on the reigns and sent the horses along in a trot, "It came from Pulitzah."

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Floaty was all too glad when Oscar stopped in front of the Distribution Center and let her off the cart. She straightened her blouse and delivered her Manhattan messages, then stopped by Tibby's and found Jack. He was sitting in his regular booth with David, Les, Racetrack, Kid Blink, and Mush. The group looked upset and Floaty wondered why.

"Hi everyone," she greeted cheerfully as she slid into the booth beside Jack. She forward and in a low tone of voice exclaimed, "Pulitzer hired a thug named Timothy Duff, he and his men, and the Delanceys, are going to try to soak you guys. I don't know where, but I do know around when, early afternoon. I know it's not a lot of information to go by."

Jack nodded, "A little information is better than none. I ain't surprised Pulitzah hired strike breakers. We've all heard da name Timothy Duff, he takes care of peoples' problems; people either gotta pay him or owe him a favor." He crossed his arms, "What were ya doin' in Harlem?"

"I didn't have a choice! I had to deliver the message to Duff; for once I was actually thankful for Oscar." She decided not to tell him about Oscar's little 'marriage' proposal….Or threat, which it seemed to be to her.

Jack shrugged, "Yer da one sitting beside one of the two men who took Crutchy to da refuge."

Floaty crossed her arms; Jack seemed to almost be accusing of her enjoying Oscar's company. That was so far from the truth it was insane. "I know Jack, and I didn't enjoy my time with him either. It was either he take me to Harlem – where I know none of you would get soaked – or risk one of you getting hurt. Believe you me, if you think I was enjoying sitting beside one of Crutchy's jailers, you're _wrong_. Dead wrong."

Jack shrugged and looked away from her for a minute; the anger shining in his eyes was directed towards Pulitzer and the Delanceys and not at her. Floaty knew that, they were all angry that their friend was trapped in the refuge and there was nothing they could do about it.

"Hey, Floats, ya work for Pulitzer," Blink leaned forward, "Do ya think could you could talk Pulitzah into gettin' Crutchy outta the refuge?"

"I'll try, but I have to tread lightly, Pulitzer's so mad at you all that steams coming out of his ears."

"Good," Jack sat back in his seat, "Ole Joe bein' mad means he notices us and this strike. We're gonna beat him sooner than he knows it!"

"Jack, Brooklyn hasn't even given his 'okay' to the strike yet. As of now, we're the only borough on strike. That's not even a dent in The World's income." David frowned, "You can't be over-confident when we may be beaten to a pulp."

Floaty paused, "I have a message to deliver in Brooklyn, I'll find Spot and tell him what I told you all. Maybe he'll be on the lookout after he finds out about Pulitzer's goons?"

"Well, their goons with clubs, and if we fight them, then we earn Brooklyn's respect and his ok," Jack smiled. "Go ahead, Floats."

"Jack, she needs to eat first!" David was reaching for a menu when Floaty stood.

"David, it's alright. I'm really not hungry."

"After all that running?"

Floaty blushed, "Spot spoiled me with a large breakfast this morning, and I'm still stuffed from it. I'll get dinner later." She turned and left the restaurant and hoped Jack and his newsies would be alright. When she was halfway to the Brooklyn Bridge, she heard the loud chimes of the church bells; it was noon. _Crud! _She ran as fast as she could over the bridge and into Brooklyn. She was going to have to make this quick, if she wasn't back by two o'clock at the latest; Pulitzer would either fire her or take away her promotion.

Floaty stumbled to a stop when she reached the docks; Spot was nowhere to be seen. Bracing her hands on her knees and panting, Floaty took a minute to catch her breath and give her legs a well needed rest. Brooklyn was huge; she just hoped Spot was close. After delivering the messages for Brooklyn, she found Spot in Annie's Sandwich Shop. It wasn't until she was closer to the windows that she noticed Chancy was sitting beside Spot. She was leaning into him; however, the closer she leaned, the farther he moved away. Floaty had to hold her breath to keep from laughing as she walked into the restaurant.

"Heya, Floats!" Spot greeted as he stood up so suddenly that Chancy (who was once again leaning over towards him) toppled out of her chair. He stepped over her and wrapped his arms around Floaty and pulled her into a hug.

Floaty gave him a small hug back; she had to admit, the Brooklyn Leader was growing on her. "I got bad news," she exclaimed, hating the fact she was chasing the good energy out of the room, "Pulitzer hired – "

"Timothy Duff, yeah, I know." Spot sat back down and glanced at Chancy, who was still on the floor, "Chancy, if ya don't get up someone's gonna confuse ya for a stain on the floor."

Chancy turned away from Spot and crawled under the table, out the other side, and stood up. Her face was beat red, she glared at Floaty and then looked at Spot, "OK, I'll be selling papers in my usual spot….You know where to find me…" she backed towards the door slowly, "And if you need to me to stay I can….All you have to do is say the word."

Spot rolled his eyes, "Chancy, keep this up and I'll give ya to Little Italy!"

Floaty watched as the girl huffed, crossed her arms, and walked out the door a moment later. "Why did you make her your second in command?"

"It was a mistake," he grimaced, "At the time I liked her and one day wanted her to be Brooklyn's Girl. I figured the best way to make that happen was to make her me second in command, dumb idea. I was 14 at the time." He paused, "She's bein' demoted to third in command, and Sport will be second in command."

"Whose Sport?"

"Good friend of mine, now sit down. Ya look like yer starvin'."

"I'm still full from breakfast."

"Uh-huh, sure ya are, sit down."

"I need to be back at the World Building –"

"Floaty," Spot took her hand, "Look at me. Remember what ya told me? Pulitzah ain't gonna let ya go until you pay back the money he spent on Lily's funeral. He pretty much owns ya, and you're lettin' him own ya! You ain't fightin' back. This fight ain't just about the newsies no more, it's about yer freedom too!"

"I know that," Floaty grumbled. "But my promotion-"

"Floaty, do ya wanna be nothin' more than a servant to him? Or do you want to be someone he's forced to respect? Cause right now, he don't respect ya. You're a smart girl, and I know ya know that."

"He respects some people…." She paused and looked up at Spot. Although his expression was filled with concern, his eyes seemed to say, c'mon Floats you know better than that. She sighed, Floaty did know better than that. She nodded, "I know….He respects me least of all. But….My job…."

"Floaty, if he fires ya, it will be a blessin'. Ya either become a newsie, or you can become somethin' else." He sat back, "Look, I ain't gonna force ya….But I don't want ya bein' trapped under his thumb his entire life. So it's up to ya. You can either stay and have lunch with me, we can enjoy the afternoon until one of me little birds comes and tells me Jacky-boy and his newsies need me….Or, you go back to Pulitzah and allow yourself to be pushed around, or ya can do whatever else you want."

Floaty glanced out the window of the sandwich shop nervously. Spot had a point about Pulitzer trapping her under his thumb, and didn't want to live that way her entire life. Staying with Spot and eating lunch with him sounded like Heaven compared to returning to the World Building where she would wait to be yelled at. But if she stayed with Spot, then Pulitzer would take away her promotion; he could get angry enough to send her to Warden Snyder for more than a luncheon and meeting about a second job. She could be there in jail. Her heart pounded at the thought of being trapped in a cell. _What's so different? I'm in jail now, there's only one difference: The door to the cell door is open and I'm refusing to walk through it._

Taking a deep breath, Floaty turned in her chair, "Waiter, menu please." She exclaimed, when she turned she found Spot beaming from ear to ear. Something caused he heart to skip a beat at that smile, a sudden warmth rushed through her entire body and she realized that she was indeed beginning to fall for the King of New York. He was handsome and smart; yet he was a lady's man. Who was to say he wouldn't find another girl he liked and he'd decide to court her instead? _One step at a time, Floaty._ She reminded herself; _I'll befriend him and learn more about him; as I grow to like him even more, I'll let him grow to like me._

Deciding it was time to share more with the newsboy about herself; Floaty inhaled and began telling Spot about her father….


	7. The Refuge & Uncle Trench?

_**Disclaimer: I do not own Newsies or any of its characters, they belong to Disney. I do not own Floaty, Trench, or Star Gazer, or Sport, they belong to DimensionalTraveller. I own Agatha.**_

_**(A/N: Hi everyone, thank you for the great reviews, favorite story/author adds, and the story alerts. :-) You all are awesome!)**_

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Floaty inhaled slowly as she raised her shoulders and walked into the World Building; it was three in the afternoon and she knew Pulitzer was going to shout at her. Part of her didn't care; while the other half of her – the rational side that seemed completely unaffected by Spot Conlon – screamed at her, _You're crazy! You're sweet on a guy whose only goal is anger Pulitzer, and he's using you to do it!_ That wasn't true; Spot liked her for who she was, and not to get revenge on the man he sold papers for….Right? Floaty's stomach twisted with worry; the more she was around Spot, the more she liked him. However, that attraction could be fatal to her job if she wasn't careful. _Pulitzer hired me on the spot, he calls me responsible and what I'm doing is irresponsible…But being stuck under his thumb all my life would be irresponsible towards myself. Like Spot said, I have to put myself first sometimes._

Agatha looked up from her desk and shook her head, "You're late."

"I know….I ran into some trouble."

"You look fine to me." The secretary scoffed as she returned to her paperwork. "Mr. Pulitzer is in a meeting, but you're free to go in."

"Gee, thanks, Agatha, you're such a comforting friend." Floaty smiled; she rolled her eyes and walked towards Pulitzer's door. She paused when she saw the Sun newspaper sitting on the edge of Agatha's desk, across it was the headline: THE CHILDREN'S CRUSADE: NEWSIES STOP THE WORLD. Floaty smiled, she wished she had been there to see it; however, Spot had one of his newsies, Ten-Pin take her to Central Park to keep her away from the fighting. She tapped on Pulitzer's door before pulling it open and walked in. The chief of police, Jonathan, Sykes, Warden Snyder, and a few other gentlemen were in Pulitzer's office. Most of the men were gathered around a newspaper; the warden, however, was sitting on the sofa and staring at her as if she were a prize.

Pulitzer pushed two of the men out of the way and looked over at her, "You're late."

"I ran into some trouble, sir. It will not happen again, I apologize." Floaty replied and glanced at the floor.

"See that it doesn't. Emmalyn, I'd like you to meet Captain McSwain, Chief of Police Devery, and Mayor Robert Van Wyck. Sitting on the sofa there is Warden Snyder, he identified this boy, the father of your late child, as Francis Sullivan. Did you know this?"

Floaty was stunned, she felt as if she had been kicked in the chest. Jack had always sworn his parents had left him in New York while they earned the money to get him a train ticket to Santa Fe, New Mexico. "I….No…." She shook her head, "He's always sworn to me he's Jack Kelly….I…."

"You believed him," Pulitzer stated.

Floaty nodded, stunned and hurt. Why didn't Jack trust her enough to tell her his true identity? _For the same reason you avoided him after Lily's death,_ she said to herself.

"Gentlemen, this is my messenger, Emmalyn McGongle, she and Mr. Sullivan had a daughter together; unfortunately the child died a month after her birth. Warden Snyder, I believe you wanted to speak to my messenger?" Pulitzer looked past Floaty and the other men as he looked at the warden.

Floaty turned as the grey haired warden stood up and nodded. He held his hat in his hand. Someone on the street could confuse him for a harmless business man, or perhaps someone's grandfather. But every working child knew differently: He was a scorpion disguised as a saint. Once he had a person's trust, he'd sting them, and throw them into the refuge before one could say '.'

"Emmalyn, you will be having lunch with Warden Snyder and you will tell him everything you know of Mr. Sullivan." Pulitzer nodded to the warden and gestured for him and Floaty to leave his office. Floaty nodded and walked out, her heart pounding. What was Pulitzer planning? She'd have to find out from Snyder, and then she'd warn Jack….Francis….Whoever he was.

"I've heard many good things about you, Miss McGongle," Snyder smiled as he held open the door of the World for her.

"Thank you sir," Floaty stepped out of the building, "I've heard good and bad things about you. But the bad comes from children who know they've committed crimes, and it's only a matter of time before they're brought to justice and raised in a proper fashion." _If I can stroke his ego, maybe I can get him to open up to me. The more information I can get out of him, the better._

Snyder looked surprised and flattered, "Well, for a young woman only 17 years of age you speak with great wisdom and the maturity of a 27 year old. Tell me, where would you like to eat?"

"Tibby's has good food, and it's affordable," she smiled.

Snyder chuckled as he held out his arm, "No, Miss McGongle, I won't be taking you to that grease-bucket. A proper young woman such as yourself needs good food; you'll be a wife and bearing children one day after all. You need a good and healthy diet." Once again, he eyed her as if she were a diamond in the rough, or some kind of rare statue. Floaty had to fight herself from stiffening up in discomfort, her first instinct was kick Snyder in the groin and run. However, she had a more important mission: Find out what Pulitzer was up too and warn the newsies. As they passed Tibby's, she saw David gawking at the sight of her and Snyder together. She shook her head, hoping he understood that the sight he was seeing wasn't her getting cozy with the warden.

"I don't really know of many more restaurants besides Tibby's and the Eighth Wonder."

"The Eighth Wonder, isn't that your uncle's restaurant?" Snyder questioned.

"Yes, sir, however I prefer to have no association with that monster."

"Wise choice, how about we have an early dinner at the refuge? My cook makes delicious food." His arm tightened around hers, "Tell me, Miss McGongle, how is it a proper young lady such as yourself isn't married yet? Many proper young women around your age are married and have at least one child by now."

Floaty swallowed and forced herself to remain calm, "I think it's because I'm a messenger girl, sir. Men don't like working women, I suppose." As the two walked into the refuge together she glanced into one of the rooms and saw a little boy running from a rat. Floaty's heart broke at seeing this, Snyder received money each month to keep this place in shape and feed and clothe the children; instead, he pocketed the money and satisfied his own greed.

"Well, yes, that is true. My wife, Sandra, passed away a few years ago and I've been looking to court a woman. However, most women don't have good morals or they despise the idea of living in the confines of the refuge. You're a kind hearted woman, and you can understand the children in the refuge, you're proper woman with good morals and a good standing…" As they walked into the refuge Floaty's stomach twisted, something was very wrong. "However, Mr. Pulitzer became concerned about you. It seems a certain Brooklyn newsboy has expressed his interest in you and is trying to ruin you and your good standing….So Mr. Pulitzer did a wise thing and asked me to keep you here until Mr. Sykes could come and get you tonight. It seems Mr. Pulitzer has very special plans for you indeed." After saying this, he shoved her into one of the isolation rooms and slammed the door shut behind her.

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Snyder turned towards Oscar Delancey, who had been hiding behind an open door. He smiled, "It's done, Sykes will be here to pick her up around six o'clock this evening. Thank you for warning Mr. Pulitzer about this newsboy's influence on her."

Oscar smirked, "Anytime, gotta look out for what's mine."

Snyder's eyebrow raised, "For what's yours? My boy, you're highly mistaken if you think she'll belong to you. Mr. Pulitzer has plans for her, from what I understand he's sending her to finishing school to prepare for her marriage."

"Marriage? To me!"

"Not to you, lad," Snyder smirked, "From what I understand she's being married off to someone very powerful who has been expressing an interest in her for over a year now."

Oscar growled and tensed, he balled his hands into fists, "Who?" _I'll strangle the bum! She was mine before she was Jack's and Spot's! I saw her first! _Usually, Oscar would find it insane for so many people to be interested in one girl; however, Jack was no longer romantically interested in her and he highly doubted Spot was either. Spot had a new girl each week; Floaty was this week's girl.

"Her uncle's second in command, Star Gazer."

Oscar sneered and turned, even he wasn't enough of a monster to stand for that. He'd get her out of this mess, one way or another. The moment he got her, he'd wed her and there would be nothing that damned bum Star Gazer could do to stop him. _Nothing_.

Snyder shook his head as he watched the hot-headed young Delancey brother stalk off. He glanced back at the room and slid open the rectangular panel. He expected to see Emmalyn sitting on the bench, probably crying her eyes out. Instead, to his surprise, she was wiggling the bars on the window, trying to find a loose one. He shook his head and shut the peep hole of the isolation room; that girl was full of surprises. _Obviously she's not one to cry like a damsel in distress._

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"Spot! Spot!" Sport, Spot's new second in command, skidded into Tibby's with his eyes wide. "I just heard Oscah talkin' to Morris! Snyder got Floaty, he locked her in an isolation room in the refuge!"

Spot, who had been toasting to the newsies' success earlier that day, jumped and turned to his second in command. His temper flared as he balled his fists. Snyder arrested Brooklyn's Queen?

"I told you I saw her with Snyder!" The Walking Mouth exclaimed, his eyes wide.

"We need ta get her outta there," Jack frowned. "Why the hell was she with him anyway?"

Spot looked back at Sport; Sport was around his height, his hair was black and curly, his nose was long and straight; he had olive colored skin and black eyes. Just as Spot had told Floaty earlier that day, Sport was the Greek version of himself.

"Oscar said it was Pulitzer's fault, that's all I know."

"Wait, we can't just go barging in there," David frowned, "We were almost caught when we tried to break Crutchy out!"

"Then what do you suggest we do?" Spot sneered as he stood in front of the annoying newsboy, "Let me girl sit there and rot?"

"No….We need to find an adult whose on our side….Who can go into the refuge and get her out."

"I'll go," Denton exclaimed as he stood.

"You sure?" Cowboy asked, "Snydah's a handful, he won't let her go for nothin'."

"If he doesn't want his name dragged through the mud, he'll let her go."

"I'm goin' with ya," Spot slammed his glass down on the table and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. No one, messed with Brooklyn's Girl and got away with it! _No one_.

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Floaty had spent almost an hour trying to find a loose bar in the cell's window; however she'd had no luck. One of the bars wiggled, but wouldn't budge. She leaned against the wall and crossed her arms, anger and frustration made her want to scream and cry. However, that wouldn't help her situation. She took a deep breath and wondered if she could trick a guard into letting her out. She could say she had to use the bathroom, and no guard was going to allow a girl to use the hole in the ground provided for prisoners. It was improper.

She walked over to the door and knocked on the sliding door that covered the peep hole, "Is anyone out there?"

The wooden panel slid open a minute later, "Yeah, what do you want?" A gruff sounding guard questioned.

"I have to use the bathroom….And I can't use…." She blushed hard, "The hole provided….My clothing will be ruined….And it's highly improper and humiliating…."

"Just a minute." The guard shut the panel and Floaty heard the jangling of keys, just as the door was halfway unlocked, the keys were taken out and the panel opened once again. A pair of blue eyes stared out at her.

"Nice try, Emmalyn. But you need to stay here for your own protection. Mr. Sykes will be here any minute now to get you," Snyder's voice exclaimed. He shut the sliding panel and Floaty hit the wall in frustration, she had been so close to an escape….So very close. She sat down for a moment and scratched her head, it was at that moment she remembered her bobby pin. However, she didn't have a chance to use it. The door swung open and Floaty felt her heart skip a beat. Snyder was being pinned to the wall by two of her uncle's goons, and her Uncle Trench was walking into the cell.

"Hello, Emmalyn," he smiled, "It's been a long time." Her uncle wasn't as tall as some men, but he was powerful and deadly. His inky black hair was slicked back; his golden colored skin made him appealing to most women; his eyes were like twin bottomless pits; his long was long and pointed. He was wearing one of his expensive black business suits with a large diamond tie tack and matching cufflinks. "It's time to come home now," he exclaimed as he grabbed her by her upper arm and dragged her out of the cell.


	8. The Great Escape & Pulitzer's Married!

_**Disclaimer: I do not own newsies or any of its characters, they all belong to Disney. Floaty belongs to DimensionalTraveller, as does Trench and Star Gazer. Chancy belongs to me.**_

_**(A/N: Hi everyone, thank you all so much for all the great reviews, and story/author adds! :-) **_**In this chapter there is historical truth; Joseph Pulitzer married Jefferson Davis's niece, Kate Davis, in 1877. Also, in 1874 he worked in Washington D.C. for the New York Sun**_**.)**_

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"Let go of me!" Floaty exclaimed for the umpteenth time as her uncle dragged her towards the Refuge's rear exit. Her heart pounded in terror and questions raced through her mind, the first being if Pulitzer had a hand in this. _Why would he want my uncle to find me? _Behind her, Snyder gave a small whimper and she heard him begging Star Gazer not to kill him. "How did you find me?"

Trench, who had been ignoring her for most of the walk, looked down at her with a smirk. "It was simple; I had one of my men hire the Warden. He convinced Warden Snyder here to take you to the refuge for a simple meal; in fact, my employee even planted the idea in the dear warden's mind that you were being sent to finishing school."

"Finishing school?" Floaty snorted and gave a sarcastic laugh. "Oh please! Pulitzer barely pays me as it is! He wouldn't spend the money to send me to hoity-toity school!"

Her uncle's grip tightened around her upper arm. "Who said you were going to a finishing school, and did I say Pulitzer would be paying for it? I can see what those street rats you've befriended have done to you. They're trying to ruin a perfectly good lady. You're no ordinary lady, Emmalyn. You're Emmalyn Antoni."

"I'm Emmalyn McGongle."

"Wrong, you're 17, and I'm the only family that you have left. That means you're last name changes to my last name, your mother's maiden name. It's an old name, you should be proud of it."

Floaty sneered at him and glanced over her shoulder. Bullet had an iron grip on Snyder's upper arm; his other hand held a gun to the man's forehead. Never before had Floaty seen Warden Snyder so scared; he was pale, shaking, and she was almost certain he had wet himself. _If you weren't so greedy this would have never happened. I need to find a way to escape._

They suddenly stopped in front the closed doors. At first Floaty thought the police had arrived, instead they were waiting for Bullet to place the gun's muzzle to the small of Snyder's back.

"Not a single word, _Warden_, or you'll be a cripple all your life, got it?" Bullet snarled.

"I…I won't….Do…Do…A-Anything…" Snyder was sweating and his blue eyes were wide and darting around in terror.

"Emmalyn, I suggest you be good. I can assure you Star Gazer will not mind finding that boy of yours and finish what he started. You be a good girl, and your knight in shining armor will live to fight another day."

Floaty sneered at Trench; she hated how he treated her like a bratty child.

"Open the doors," Trench commented as he smoothed out an imaginary wrinkle on his suit. Snyder snapped at the outside guards to open the doors, a minute later bright afternoon sunlight poured in. Trench took the opportunity to study Floaty for a moment. "You look just like your mother; you have her eyes and mouth."

Floaty glanced at him and looked away; she only knew what her father had said about her mother. As Trench pulled her forward, she thought back to her father's story of how he first met her. He had just come over to New York from Ireland for the first time; however it was on an Irish company's dime. He was there to help deliver antiquities to a local museum. While he was helping to set up an exhibit, he caught sight of the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. She had golden color skin, hair as beautiful and fine as black silk, and dark brown eyes. To the day he died, he swore his wife was an angel in disguise. The woman, Isabella, asked him for help finding the Egyptian section of the museum; Trench had been with her at the time, but busy trying to talk the museum's curator into selling him the golden statue of the Egyptian sun god, Ra.

Her parents had talked for almost ten minutes and exchanged names and addresses. As the ship was fully unloaded, which almost took a week, Isabella told her father, Patrick, of her brother and how she wished to get away from him. Patrick had been friends with the ship's captain, who reluctantly agreed to smuggle Isabella aboard the ship. Three and half months later, Patrick and Isabella married in St. Brigid's Church in Claddagh, Ireland. Six months later Emmalyn was born.

Trench had almost reached the carriage when an idea struck Floaty. Her father had always said her mother would get the worst stomach cramps during a certain time each month. Sometimes, they were so bad she could barely walk. _Please let this work_, Floaty prayed as she stopped and gave a small moan.

"What's the matter?" Her uncle questioned, sounding bored to tears.

"My…Stomach, it hurts terribly."

Trench shifted his weight onto another foot and looked uncomfortable, "I can carry you into the carri-"

"Ooh, it hurts! I need my Laudanum, but it's back in the Boarding…House…Oh!" She wrapped her free arm around her stomach and began to bend down. Floaty squinted and thought about Lily's grave. The pain from losing her child helped to pull off the appearance of a woman in severe abdominal pain. She heard Trench curse and order Bullet to shove Snyder in a closet, and Star Gazer and two other men began to corral the guards at gunpoint into a small shed.

Floaty waited until Trench was completely focused on making sure no one was around to see the spectacle. All his men were either busy locking the guards in the storage shed or protecting Trench, she had her chance. Leaning forward, she put her head on his shoulder and gave another soft moan of 'pain', he glanced at her and looked away. She balled her free arm's hand into a fist and hit her uncle in the leg. He yelped in pain and began to jump away; as he did she freed her arm and pushed him into his carriage. She pulled her message bag off her shoulder and threw it at one of her uncle's guards; the man paused to catch it. Floaty turned and ran towards the exit.

"Shut the gates you morons! Close the gates!" Trench shouted from behind her. Floaty ran as fast as she could towards the refuge's gates, which were almost closed. Then, suddenly, they were pushed open again by Spot Conlon, Denton, and an army of newsies.

"Run! Run!" Floaty shouted at them.

"Floats!" Spot reached forward and grabbed hold of her wrist, she glanced up at his face and her heart almost skipped a beat. His icy blue eyes were shining with concern and what appeared to be pride. As he pulled her over the refuge's threshold, the newsies shut and locked the gates.

"We have to let the police know," Floaty panted.

"They already know," Denton smiled, "Oscar walked into Pulitzer's office, shouting and accusing him of being a no-good money-hungry leech. When Pulitzer demanded an explanation and found out what happened, he called the chief of police."

Floaty gave a stunned nod. "Wow, I didn't really think he'd care if I just vanished into thin air."

"I'd care." Spot wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into his embrace. He rested his chin on top of her head and just held her for a good long minute. It wasn't until Floaty's adrenaline had worn off that she realized her boyfriend was shaking.

"We'd care," Jack added, knowing that neither Spot nor Floaty were paying attention to him or the others. "Hey love birds! We gotta cheese it before the bulls get here."

The two separated, but Spot's arm stayed around her shoulders. "How'd ya get outta there?"

As the group began walking back to Tibby's, Floaty smiled, "My mother helped me." At seeing Spot's confused look she chuckled and explained. "My mother used to suffer from monthly stomach cramps; they got to be so bad at times that she could barely walk. I used what I knew and hoped for the best. Then, when everyone was distracted I hit my uncle in the leg, I was aiming for a different place, then I threw my bag at one of the men about to grab me and ran like Hades."

"And the idiot stopped to catch it," Jack smirked.

Floaty laughed and nodded, "Yeah, he did."

"I'm proud that yer Brooklyn's Girl, I ain't lettin' you out of me sight again." To prove a point, he stared at her for an entire minute as they walked.

"Alright, Spot, point taken. Stop staring or I'll have Denton take my picture, since it will last longer."

"Floaty?" Denton questioned.

Floaty nodded.

"Alright, I wasn't sure, there are so many nicknames around here…" he gave a nervous chuckle. "Mr. Pulitzer wants to see you," he pointed at the World's door where Agatha was shouting at her to get inside the building.

"Whose dat?" Spot wrinkled his nose in obvious disgust.

"Agatha, Pulitzer's secretary. She's Weasel's girlfriend, and she's just as, if not more, annoying than Weasel and the Delanceys combined."

"Weas has a girl?" Race asked in obvious shock. "Now that's a bet no one would win!"

Mush nodded in agreement.

"Now dat's annoyin'," Jack chuckled, "C'mon, Spot, we gotta let Floaty do her job now."

"I ain't leavin' her side, Jacky Boy."

"Spot, didn't you tell me earlier that you and Jack have a rally to plan for tomorrow night at Medda's? You're the King of Brooklyn, if you don't help to plan and arrange this rally, then no other boroughs will show up. You swore to me you'd join the strike, and you did. Now, you need to keep your promise to Jack….After all, Brooklyn doesn't need to the reputation of being someone who can't keep his promises."

Spot stared at her for a long minute then smirked, "Jacky Boy, the Walkin' Mouth there may be smart….But me girl's smarter." He kissed Floaty's forehead, "See ya soon, Floats."

"See you soon, Spot." Floaty replied, as she walked towards the World Building she realized that the entire time she had been smiling and blushing. She had felt happier than she had ever felt before, and her heart had been pounding – but not in a bad way – but in a good way. _I'm falling in love with Spot Conlon.  
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"Mr. Pulitzer, sir?" Floaty asked softly as she entered his office. He was standing in his usual spot in front of the window that faced Manhattan. He reminded her of Napoleon Bonaparte, who always stood on the balcony that overlooked his empire. _Emperor Joseph Pulitzer, the wanna-be king of earth._

He turned towards her, "Emmalyn, I'm glad to see you are well."

"Yes sir, I managed to escape. My friends helped me."

Sykes stared at her when she said this; he gave her a disapproving scowl. Floaty ignored him, she was thankful for his help, but she no longer had to hide behind him. If Pulitzer fired her, then so be it. Just as Spot had said, she could find another job. She was a hard worker and she was creative…She'd find a new and better job. Maybe she'd go back to being a newsie?

"Your friends?"

"The newsies, sir."

Pulitzer sneered, "They aren't your friends, Emmalyn. Their poor, stupid, and misguided children that are led by a rogue boy named Francis Sullivan….Your former lover Jack Kelly." He paused, "You've had a very trying and emotionally frightening day," he cleared his throat, "I told my wife what happened to you today…."

Floaty was surprised; she didn't even know Pulitzer was married. "Oh…Um….Wow…that was nice of you….Sir."

"Yes, well, she became angry with me, I told her you've been my employee for a few years. My wife, Kate, is no ordinary woman, Emmalyn. She's Jefferson Davis's niece. You do know who Davis was?"

"Yes, sir. He was the president of the Confederate States of America."

Pulitzer nodded, "Correct. She wants to meet you tonight, and you will be there. If you are not back in my office at six o' clock this evening, I'll tell Warden Snyder to arrest every one of your friends. Do you understand me?"

"You can…"

"Do…You…Understand?"

Floaty bit her bottom lip; she couldn't let her friends be thrown into the Refuge because of her. She nodded and turned to leave.

"Emmalyn, your bag," Pulitzer pointed at a new leather messenger bag with the World logo carved into the front of it. She grabbed it and pulled it over her neck and shoulder. It was already filled with messages, a new slingshot, and marbles. Pulitzer turned away from her and returned to staring at New York, his empire state.

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"Not happenin' Jacky boy!" Spot exclaimed as Floaty walked into the Manhattan lodging house, it was almost five o'clock and she was exhausted.

"Heya Floats!" Mush greeted with a large smile. "You ok, ya look horrible."

"Hi Mush, I'm okay. What's going on?"

The muscular boy shrugged, "Jack and Spot can't agree on who should give the openin' speech of the rally. Spot wants too, since he's our 'king' and Jack wants too since he started the strike."

"How about you both start it," Floaty suggested with a smirk.

Jack and Spot both stared at her in surprise and asked her in unison, "How?"

"Well, Jack can begin explaining the history of how the strike started, and then he can turn to you, Spot, and wait for you're ok. You'll be the one who officially starts the strike when you give your 'ok'."

"Why didn't I think of that?" David asked with a puzzled expression.

Floaty chuckled, "Sometimes it takes an outsider to point out the obvious."

"How come ya haven't taken off yer bag?" Spot asked, "Put yer feet up and stay awhile."

"I'd love too, but I can't. Pulitzer's wife wants to meet me. So I'm being forced into his house, I don't know what time I'll be back in Brooklyn."

"We talked about this!" Spot exclaimed, his face turning red.

"Spot! It has nothing to do with my job being at stake this time. If I didn't agree he was going to send Snyder to arrest you all. I couldn't say 'no' and condemn you all to refuge life."

"Damned son of a…." Spot started, then noticed Tumbler staring up at him, "…Spider."

"Floaty, if Pulitzer wants you at his house that bad, well if it's truly his wife anyhow, then he's up to something." Blink crossed his arms and stared at her with a concern.

Spot nodded, "I agree wid Blink, Pulitzah's up to somethin'," he took his cane from his belt loop and slammed it onto the floorboards.

"Conlon! You ruin my flooring and I'll ruin that cane!" Kloppman shouted from downstairs, causing everyone to get a well needed laugh.

Spot smirked and chuckled as he put his cane back into his belt loop. His smirk soon vanished into a frown, "Floats, ya gonna be ok?"

"I'll be fine, his wife sounds like a powerful woman. He's afraid of her; her name is Kate Davis Pulitzer. She's the niece of Jefferson Davis, the late president of the Confederacy."At seeing the confused looks she explained, "The Civil War in 1860 through 1865? When America warred with itself…..Some people call it the War Between the States…"

"Oh dat one!" Blink exclaimed with a nod, "Yeah, I hear that old soldier who patrols near the World talkin' about it all the time."

"Me too," murmured the other newsies.

Floaty nodded, "Yeah, that one. She's a strong woman, and if she tells Pulitzer to let me go, then I think he'll do it."

"Floats, if it's too late for ya to back to Brooklyn, then stay here." Jack smiled.

"If she stays here, then I'm stayin' here too." Spot exclaimed.

Jack rolled his eyes, "Fine, Fine, your maj-ass-ty."

"Enough you two."

"He started it!" The two newsboy leaders pointed to each other.

Floaty groaned and shook her head, "Don't guys ever grow up?" She glanced towards the corner of the room where Chancy sat beside Alley. She looked angry and hurt. "Is Chancy alright?"

"Yeah, she's fine. She just don't like bein' demoted," Spot shrugged. "It was her own fault. After the strike she's movin' to Queens."

"Why?"

"She's dating Morris Delancey, that's why." Spot sneered, "She can't be trusted…Not wid him."

Floaty shook her head, "Spot, she's been dating him for…"

"I know, I was hopin' she was gonna leave him. C'mon, let me walk ya to the World before Pulitzah sends his goons after ya."


	9. Arrested & Snyders Visit & The Dream

_**Disclaimer: I do not own Newsies or any of its characters, they belong to Disney. Floaty and Trench belong to DimensionalTraveller. Aidan and Agatha belong to me.**_

_**(A/N: Hi everyone, thank you so much for the great reviews and story/author adds! :-D)**_

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**_**Historical facts: Joseph Pulitzer married Jefferson Davis's (president of the confederacy) niece; together they had 7 children. Their marriage was good, but became very difficult (especially for Kate) when Pulitzer got older; he was a distant father and husband, he was said to have bipolar disorder and went through mood swings and was often very depressed.  
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Floaty arrived at the World Building at eight; Spot had attempted to go in with her, but she stopped him. The last thing Pulitzer would want to see was one of his on-strike-newsies. Squaring her shoulders and taking a deep breath, she walked into the lobby, she had done this countless of times, but for some reason the walk now seemed foreboding. _The calm before the storm_, she thought to herself. She glanced over at Agatha's desk, she obviously gone home. The silence in the lobby leading to Pulitzer's office was deafening. She knocked on his heavy wooden door.

"Enter," Pulitzer snapped. Floaty pulled open the door and walked into the office; Sykes sat on the couch beside an older and beautiful woman who was nervously wringing her hands.

"Mr. Pulitzer, sir? You asked to see me?"

"Emmalyn, sit down," he pointed to the chair across the room. Floaty swallowed as she seated herself; she knew something was wrong – Pulitzer never let her sit on his furniture. He probably feared she'd dirty or ruin it. He turned, his hands clasped behind his back. Sitting on the sofa in his office was an older woman; she had to be Kate Davis Pulitzer. From everything she'd heard about the woman, she was the niece of the former president of the Confederate States of America – Jefferson Davis. She found it odd that Pulitzer, once a proud Union soldier, would marry the enemy's niece. Then again, Pulitzer didn't seem the type to care who won or lost a war (until now) as long as he had something to gain from it. Floaty shifted nervously in her chair; she missed the sunlight shining into the office making it brighter and slightly more welcoming. The darkness that was only offset by a few oil lamps and candles cast shadows across the room; she felt as if she were stuck in one of Edgar Allen Poe's stories.

"I understand you've befriended the newsies, and you are the one who helped their strike to begin," he turned towards her; an expression of hate was painted across his face. Floaty's stomach twisted as her heart pounded; she knew it was only a matter of time before found out. But in these dark settings, the 'meeting' was even more terrifying.

"Yes, Mr. Pulitzer, I did help to start the strike, and I have no regrets about it. The newsies can barely afford to live in the lodging house and pay for their food, and the higher prices…."

"Enough!" He snapped and took a step towards her. "After all I've done for you; you go off and betray me. You are my messenger, you've overheard many important meetings, and I don't doubt that you've shared this information with those street rats. I trusted you….Which was a mistake. You're the niece of a criminal; it's only in your nature to backstab those who try to aid you in life."

The comment stung; Floaty bit her lower lip, she was nothing like her uncle. _Nothing_. Throughout her entire life she had struggled to earn an honest living and to never steal. There had been a handful of times when she had no other choice but to steal fruit from a market stand; or to steal a coin from some middle class or rich person who could earn back the money in an hour. Curling her fingers into her palm she took a deep breath and defended herself.

"Mr. Pulitzer, sir, never would I betray you without good reason….You went too far by raising the prices of the newspapers. I didn't agree with your actions, and you are the one who taught me 'stand by your morals no matter what the consequences'. I did just as you said….And I'd do it a hundred times over if I had too."

"Joseph," Kate exclaimed, "Listen to the young woman. She makes a valid point, the little time you spend with our children, you're always telling them to stand by their morals-"

"This is different!" Pulitzer shouted and slammed his fist onto his desktop, causing everyone in the room to jump; Jonathan gave a small yelp of surprise. "Emmalyn is not our child, Kate!"

"Then stop treating and speaking of her as if she is!" Kate exclaimed as a strand of her graying brown hair fell from the bun at the back of head. "You call her by her first name and you offer her the job you were going to give to your son!"

"We'll talk of this when we get home, now be quiet!"

Kate glared at him and gave Floaty a sympathetic look before she fell silent.

"When you first worked for me you swore to me you would never tell anyone anything that went on in this office; you lied. You also stole information, which is a crime," Pulitzer exclaimed in a low tone of voice. He turned away from her and Floaty stood, she knew something was wrong. He continued, "But Sykes has explained the reason you lied. I'm angry with you for not telling me sooner," he turned towards her, "You should have told me the newsies were threatening you."

_WHAT?_ Floaty's eyes widened and she glanced over at Sykes who seemed to be content with appearing emotionless. She took a deep breath, she needed to fix this in a way it could help her and the newsies.

"It wasn't the Manhattan or Brooklyn newsies, sir, it was the Harlem newsies."

Pulitzer held up a hand, "A newsie is a newsie; it doesn't matter where they're from. With this strike business, the newsies are dangerous, which is why my wife and I have decided that until early tomorrow evening, you will stay at the refuge. You'll be safe there; my carriage will come by and bring you to my home. You'll know the reason why then." As he finished two uniformed officers walked in, Floaty stood and followed her natural instinct to run. Before she could get close to the door, each officer had locked their arm around one of hers.

"Mr. Pulitzer, that refuge is a dump! A rat house! It's not safe! Please, I can stay with the Jacobs!"

Pulitzer gestured to the officers to leave; as Floaty was dragged out of the room, she saw Kate lower her head. She looked as if she felt extremely guilty and as Floaty and the officers walked past, she never looked up.

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Mush watched with wide eyes as two bulls dragged Floaty out of the World Building; Floaty was struggling and dragging her feet. He was about to try to distract the officers and give Floaty a fighting chance to escape when two more bulls joined them.

_Why is Floats bein' arrested? She's a good girl, I know she's really put herself into trouble by helpin' us, but not enough trouble to get her sent to the refuge….Right? I gotta get Jack and Spot!_

He turned and ran towards Delancey Street. He wondered how Floaty could run these streets so quickly all the time. She knew all sorts of shortcuts that some newsies had yet to learn about. She had shown him the one he was on – Jefferson Avenue – a few months ago. He had always thought the street led to Bottle Alley; Floaty said it did, but if you took a left onto Main Street, then a right, you'd be on Delancey Street in only a few short minutes. Mush walked past a drunk man lying in the street, and paused at the end of Jefferson avenue. There were no street markers, but Floaty taught him a trick – If you're thirsty, go straight for a bottle of water; if you want to meet a Delancey, just go right onto their street. He turned to the right, and a minute later he was on Delancey street only a few buildings away from the lodging house.

He ran so quickly he swore his feet were on fire. Just as he was about to skid to a stop, Blink opened the door, he shouted at Mush to stop, and Mush shouted back he couldn't. He collided into Blink a moment later and fell to the floor.

"Get….Of….Me!" Blink wheezed.

"Sorry," Mush rolled off his friend and panted; his heart racing. When he opened his eyes, he found several newsies, including Jack and Spot, curiously staring down at him. Most of the other newsies were laughing, some were scratching their heads looking puzzled, while the rest just laughed and went back upstairs.

"What was all dat about?" Spot questioned as he helped Blink up.

Mush sat up, and took Jack's hand then stood. "I was in a hurry – Pulitzer had Floaty arrested."

"WHAT?" Spot shouted, his eyes widened. "What for?"

"I don't know," Mush shrugged. "He wasn't outside with her though."

"We just get her back, and now dis?" Jack groaned, "Pulitzah must hate her now."

"We'll get her bac…." Mush started when the door opened. "Jack, it's Snyder, hide!"

Eyes widening, Jack darted into Kloppman's office; the older man shut the door behind him and walked over to his desk. Folding his arms he glared at the Warden.

"Can I help ya?"

"I'm looking for a….Jack Kelly," Snyder exclaimed, "I understand he stays here." He looked at the crowd of newsies filling the lodging house's lobby and stairs. Mush scowled at the man.

"Ain't no Jack Kelly here," Kloppman shrugged. The Warden reached for the sign in book, but Kloppman pulled it away, "Privacy is very important, I harbor runaways ya know. You wouldn't want to be the one to send of dem back to their abusive families, would ya?"

Snyder glared at Kloppman and reached for the book again.

Seeing the trouble before them, Racetrack spoke up, "Yeah, Jack was here."

The Warden turned towards the Itilian newsboy, "Is he here now?"

"Nope. He put an egg in his shoe….And beat it." He shrugged with a smile, the newsies burst out laughing and slapped Race on the back. Snyder sneered at them.

"This is serious business, if any one of you sees him; you will let me know immediately." He exclaimed, not noticing as he walked around, the boy he was searching for shadowed him and mimicked his every move. Noticing a few smirks and snorts from the newsies, Snyder turned and Jack ducked back into Kloppman's office.

Mush was about to open the door for the warden when he spoke again.

"Also, I want you all to know that someone has been threatening Pulitzer's messenger girl, Emmalyn McGongle. She'll be staying in the refuge until Mr. Pulitzer finds it safe for her to leave."

"We didn't threaten her!" Mush exclaimed, did she tell her boss that? Why would she do such a thing?

"Me newsies would never threaten that girl," Kloppman sneered, "She's a good girl and we all love her."

"Well, according to Mr. Sykes, one of you has it in for her." He glared at the newsies, then noticed Snipeshooter staring down at him. As if to prove he was a good man, he handed the boy a penny, patted the top of his head, and walked towards the door. Mush gladly opened it for him and slammed the door shut behind him.

"Dat was too close Jacky-boy," Spot paced. "We can't go and get her."

"We got too!" Mush exclaimed.

Jack shook his head as he walked out of the lobby, "Thanks, Kloppman." He turned towards Mush, "Spot's right, Mush. We can't. It's too dangerous, Floats will be alright – Pulitzah will see to dat."

"I ain't so sure," Mush frowned, "He's been awful hard on her since the strike started."

"When has Pulitzer nevah been hard on her?" Race snorted, "I don't understand why she just doesn't quit? If it were me…"

Spot slammed the bottom of his cane down onto the floor, causing Kloppman to glare at him. Spot gave him a sheepish and apologetic smile before turning towards Racetrack. "Ya wanna know why she can't quit, Race? Because she was once a mother."

"What?" Race, Mush, and several other newsies questioned in unison. The newsies began talking amongst themselves so loudly that Kloppman took Spot's cane and hit it against one of the frying pans hanging from the kitchen door. The loud gong like noise caught everyone's attention and they silenced. Kloppman handed the cane back to Spot.

"Spot," Jack exclaimed, Mush could see from their leader's pained expression, Spot was being truthful.

"No, Jacky-boy, it's time dey know. Jack and Spot used to be lovahs, dey had a baby named Lily. From what Jacky-boy tells me, she was a beautiful kid, looked just like her mother. Lily died a month after she was born from illness, and Floats was so heartbroken she couldn't talk to any newsies, especially not Lily's father. Pulitzah paid for Jack and Floaty's baby's funeral, and until he feels she paid off dat debt, she's trapped undah his thumb."

Mush felt as if a knife had just been plunged through his heart; now he understood why their leader seemed wise beyond his years so often. He also understood why he couldn't look at Lilies in the flower market, and why Medda never wore them in her hair around him. They were all painful reminders of the daughter Jack had lost. _Damn, no wondah Floats was always cryin'._

Racetrack had paled as well, he glanced down at the floor, "Jack….I'm sorry, I didn't know."

"No one did, Floats and I didn't want to say nothin'." Jack shrugged, "It happened a few years ago, but it still hurts. If Sarah and I get married, I hope our kids grow to be old farts."

The newsies nodded.

"Jack, I'm so sorry," Mush frowned.

"Hey, I don't wanna hear 'I'm sorry' dat's why Floats and I didn't say nothin' to you all. We both couldn't stand to hear dem words. Let's focus on da matter at hand here, da rally tomorrow night."

Spot nodded in agreement, "I agree wid ya, Jack. Did Medda agree to let us use Irving Hall?"

"She did."

"Den we'll be dere at what, around eight?"

"Seven o'clock, she's givin' us dinner too," Jack smiled.

"What about Floats?" Blink frowned.

Spot and Jack both paused; finally Spot spoke up, "She'll be alright, Mush. Knowin' Crutchy, he'll keep an eye on her, and she'll keep an eye on him."

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Floaty sat on the single bed that hung from chains attached to the wall; she was in solitary confinement away from all the other kids. Supposedly because she was the only girl in the refuge and her 'virtue' could be at stake with the older boys. _Yeah, right, it's just because Snyder's pissed at me because of my Uncle's actions; and Pulitzer has had a stick up his behind for months now._

She wrapped her arms around her knees and watched a large brown rat on the window sill; it was nibbling at a bread crumb. Floaty hated rats, but she wasn't terrified of them; when she was little, Trench had found her father. Her father had shoved her into their tiny apartment's closet, which had been filled with rats at the time. For hours she stayed in the closet, terrified that Trench would hurt her father and find her. The rats had avoided her, but every now and then one would nibble at her shoe. A good kick usually scared them off.

She looked past the rat and stared into the inky darkness outside of the barred window. Floaty had become a different person over the past few days; just days ago she would have begged Pulitzer not to send her to this trash heap of a prison. She wouldn't have had the courage to stand up to him either. _Spot's made me into a tougher person; if I were in here a years ago, months ago even, I'd be in tears._

"Heya Floats!" Crutchy exclaimed.

Floaty turned and beamed at seeing the peep hole had opened, she recognized Crutchy's friendly dark brown eyes and cheerful voice from anywhere. Beaming, she stood up and walked over to the peep hole.

"Hi Crutchy, how are you doing? Has Snyder been treating you ok?"

He snorted, "Let's just say he treats me a little better since I'm 'assistant'. I heard what happened with your uncle earlier t'day, I'm glad yer alright."

She smiled, "I'm fine. Jack and the others are really fighting to get you out of this place."

"Dat's nice of dem, but don't say the J-word in dis place." He frowned, "I did and I got Jack in trouble."

Floaty frowned, "So that's why Pulitzer was standing over the newspaper picture. It's alright Crutchy, whatever happened was an honest mistake, it could have happened to anyone."

He shrugged, "I was bein' stupid, I got Jack into danger."

"He'll be alright."

"I ain't so sure, Snydah hates him."

"And he hates Snyder, their relationship is mutual," Floaty smirked.

Crutchy chuckled, "You've changed."

"A little."

"A lot. A few months ago, you would have been begging and shoutin' to see Snyder, hopin' to get outta here. You're a lot tougher and ya even look different…." He leaned forward, "Did ya fall in love with someone? Whose da lucky guy?"

Floaty laughed, "Yes, I did," she leaned forward and whispered, "Spot."

Crutchy's eyes widened, "Spot? As in the King of Brooklyn?"

Floaty nodded.

"Careful, Floats."

"I know, he's a ladies' man….But I think everything will be alright."

"Alright, I gotta go before Snydah finds me. I'll bring ya some breakfast in the mornin'."

"Thanks, Crutchy." Floaty walked back to her bunk; well, there was nothing else to do to pass the time. She crawled under the sheets and tucked her arm under the pillow. Curling up she glanced up at oil lamp attached the wall and hoped the flame wouldn't go out, she hated the dark. She pulled her locket out from under her blouse and opened it; she smiled at the photographs.

Her father's beaming leprechaun-shaped face smiled at her; beside him stood her mother. Her mother had been a beautiful woman; she was tall and curvy with long and flowing raven black hair. Her face was long and narrow and her chin was round instead of pointed. Her eyes were dark, and there was a small smile on her lips. Floaty wished she could remember her mother; she wondered what her mother's voice had sounded like. Was it gravelly, soft, or was it bell-like as her father said it was? She glanced over at the other part of her locket, where the Forget-Me-Not from Lily's funeral was tucked. She shut the pendant and kissed the front of it, then tucked it back under her blouse. She shut her eyes and clasped her hands in a prayer; asking God to help the newsies and her. Then, turning over so her back faced the door, she fell to sleep.

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"Emmalyn! You silly girl, what do you think you're doing?" A bell like voice laughed from behind her.

Floaty found herself standing on top of a small emerald green grassy hill that was filled with colorful wild flowers. In her dream, she was small, maybe three or four years old. She watched with wide eyes as a beautiful woman with golden colored skin sat down beside her.

"Ma?" She found herself asking.

"This is a very pretty place you have found, my darling Emmalyn." She pulled Floaty into her lap and cuddled her close. "Always know little one that I am with you and I shall always be. Always." She kissed the top of Floaty's forehead, "You're such a brave little girl, just like your daddy. One day you will meet your own prince and you will fall in love too."

At that moment, Floaty heard a loud squeal and giggle; she looked over at the sound and saw a little boy who was a year or two older than herself playing with his father.

Floaty's mother smiled, "That's Mr. Conlon with his son, Aidan. We're neighbors, Emmalyn, maybe one day you and Aidan will be friends?"

Suddenly, her dream changed, and Floaty found herself on the Brooklyn docks; Spot climbed down from his 'throne' and pulled her into his arms. Smiling he kissed her.

Beaming, Floaty whispered, "Hello Aidan. I love you."

When Floaty awoke the next morning she stared out the barred window wide eyed; she was shocked. Her prayers had been answered; she had been given a memory of her mother and was told that she was with Floaty always. Then, she was finally able to learn Spot's real name and admit she loved him. _When I get out of here, I'm going to tell Spot how I feel before it's too late._


	10. Jacks been caught & Pulitzer's Offer

_**Disclaimer: I do not own newsies or any of its characters, they belong to Disney. Floaty belongs to DimensionalTraveller.**_

_**(A/N: Hi everyone, thank you so much for the awesome reviews and the favorite story add! :-))**_

**(Hi everyone, I changed the time line around a little for this chapter.)**

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The newsies spent the next morning painting the last of their strike signs, getting lunch, and going to Medda's. Throughout the afternoon they greeted newsies from Long Island, Little Italy, the Bronx, Queens, Midtown, and Harlem. Although Manhattan and Brooklyn usually wanted the Harlem newsies off their territory, they made an exception; in order for the newsie strike to succeed they needed _every_ borough's participation and support. Each newsie leader and many of their newsies who past Spot noticed that the Newsie King seemed to be struggling to control his temper.

"Hey, Manhattan," exclaimed the Harlem leader, a short raven haired boy with eyes so dark they were almost black, "What's wid Conlon? He finally growin' a brain and realizin' I'm da newsie king?"

Jack sneered, "None of your business, Vampire." The Manhattan newsies had worked too hard for this day, and Cowboy understood Spot's anger. More than anything, he wanted to go to the refuge and break Floaty out, but that was impossible at this stage of the strike. Snyder and all his goons were looking for him; and he if was arrested the identity of Jack Kelly he had worked so hard to create and upkeep would be gone, along with his newsies' and friends' trust. He weaved his way through the huge crowd of newsies and found Spot sitting on the edge of the stage.

"Everyone here, Jacky boy?"

"Yeah, everyone but you."

Spot glanced at him, "I'm here."

"No, yer minds somewhere else, and I got an idea where." Jack sighed, crossed his arms, and leaned against the stage. "I'm angry too; I don't like what happened ta Floats."

"It ain't right, Jack," he frowned, "It ain't right. The Walkin' Mouth may have helped ya get this strike idea in your head, but it was Floaty who made it happen. She pushed me, Jacky-boy, and she made me listen." He looked Jack in the eye, "And _no one_ forces Spot Conlon to do anythin'."

"No one but her."

"No one but her," Spot agreed. "Jack, da best thing you've ever done is bring dat girl to Brooklyn with ya. She ain't like the others, she's special." He chuckled, "She hated me at first, and I thought she was gonna claw my eyes out at one point."

Jack smirked, "Ya love her."

Spot paused, usually he'd argue against a person accusing him of being in love with a girl. But this time, he couldn't argue. He had fallen in love with Pulitzer's Messenger. For years, he had made fun of Pulitzer's messenger; never knowing that the messenger was a beautiful, intelligent, and strong young woman with a heart of gold. From the moment he saw her, Spot knew she was for him. She was tough, but with his help she had became tougher and even stood up to Pulitzer.

"Yeah, Jacky-boy, I do love her. Dat's good for me and her, but dat may not be _safe_ for her." He looked up at the right balcony where Vampire and some of his newsies sat.

"Vampire won't bother Floats, Spot. She works for Pulitzah, he'll probably go outta his way to stay away from her. Even if he doesn't, she can handle herself….And right now, she's got more dan the Harlem newsboy leadah to worry about."

Spot nodded, the lights dimmed and the other newsie leaders and David began climbing onto stage. It was time for the first newsie strike to begin; Spot's only regret was Floaty wasn't there.

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Floaty stood as the metal door of the solitary confinement cell opened with a loud metallic squeak that caused her hair to stand on end. Warden Snyder walked into the cell looking pleased with himself.

"Good evening, Emmalyn, I trust your stay was satisfactory?"

Floaty, not playing his game, smiled. "It was good, Warden, everyone here was very kind and considerate towards me."

Snyder tensed, "Well….That's good." He gestured to two officers; Floaty stepped towards them assuming they were going to take her arms. To her surprise, the officers carried shackles; her mouth became as dry as sand paper. "Warden, I have been nothing but cooperative during my stay. Why this?"

"You are a criminal, Emmalyn."

Floaty glared at him and held her head high, "I am no criminal, Warden."

"Oh yes, you are." Snyder leaned forward, "You harbored Francis Sullivan AKA Jack Kelly from the law, and you helped him to escape from me on various occasions. You aided him, therefore you are a conspirator – a criminal, and I can't have you escaping."

Floaty glared at him, she almost wished the man would drop dead where he stood. The officers shackled her wrists and ankles; she was led out of the refuge, but she held her head high. If there was any criminal in the refuge, it was Snyder. Floaty was led into the courtyard and the officers helped her into Pulitzer's carriage.

"We're going to Irving Hall," Snyder exclaimed, "To get your friend, 'Jack', then we're off to see your employer."

Floaty's stomach twisted; she knew the newsies were not expecting Snyder to show up. As the carriage neared Medda's, Floaty's heart fell towards her stomach; hundreds of goons and bulls surrounded the theater. Amongst them were Weasel, and Oscar and Morris Delancey….And to her surprise, Agatha.

"Wondering what 'Agatha' is doing here?"

"The thought crossed my mind." Floaty muttered.

Snyder smirked, "Agatha is my sister, and she wanted to be here to see the newsies' failure." He climbed out of the carriage and told the guard sitting beside Sykes to join Floaty in the carriage. He couldn't take a chance of her escaping – if his men, the Pinkerton agency's men, or Pulitzer's men couldn't catch Jack, Floaty would be perfect bait.

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The newsies had been singing and dancing with Medda; their rally had gone great – Spot had given his 'ok' to the strike and every borough had joined in. No newsie in all of New York would be selling papes. The streets would be silent until Pulitzer lowered his prices. Then, as the song came to an end, David had spotted Snyder skulking around and edging towards Jack and Sarah.

Together, David and Spot had warned Jack but not in time. The theater was soon overrun with bulls, goons, and the Delancey brothers. Jack had almost escaped until a Pinkerton agent slugged him and sent him falling back into a group of officers' and goons' arms. All around them, the newsies were being beaten by the police and dragged towards paddy wagons. As Jack struggled against his captors he watched two bulls dragging an unconscious Racetrack out the door. Medda was a few feet behind him being restrained by a handful of goons, she kept screaming at the men to leave the newsies alone; they were only children.

Jack continued to struggle until Snyder jogged ahead of him towards a fancy carriage. _Well, ain't dat nice, I'm goin' to the Refuge in style._ Jack stopped his tracks a moment later, his mouth fell open; Snyder was dragging Floaty out of the carriage by her hair. Her wrists and ankles were encased in shackles, the chains that connected them clinked and rattled as she struggled.

"Get in, Kelly," Snyder shouted at him, "and each time you argue with me or attempt an escape, that's another month that Emmalyn will be spending in the refuge!" Jack sneered at him and climbed into the carriage, followed by Snyder, and lastly Floaty. As the carriage moved forward he glanced over at her; she looked at him and Jack's temper blew through the roof when he saw a shiner forming over her right eye. Someone had hit her; he assumed it had been Snyder.

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The carriage entered Pulitzer's giant cobblestone front yard minutes later. The doors were opened and Floaty was greeted by Jonathan; as usual, he looked nervous.

"Mr. Pulitzer is waiting inside for you all," he informed as the two officers who had been sitting on each side of Sykes climbed down from the running board. One officer took Floaty by the other, Sykes took her other arm; the other office and Snyder had a tight hold on Jack's arms.

"Jack, whatever you do, please just smile and nod and try not to be sarcastic..." Floaty started until the officer slapped her upside the head and shouted at her to be quiet.

"Don't ya dare hit her!" Jack shouted, Floaty noticed how angry he was and she shook her head. Now was not the time to be making enemies. The doors to the mansion opened and Floaty walked in followed by Jack; she gaped at Pulitzer's home. The front parlor reminded her of the pictures in the books she had read about Ancient Greece and Rome. Her chains and shackles were removed, and the two were left in the living room.

"Some place he's got here." Jack commented as he looked around.

Floaty wrapped her arms around herself, "Don't touch anything," she commented as she stood beside a high backed wooden chair beside a stained glass lamp. "I once touched a statue in Mr. Pulitzer's office and he became extremely angry with me."

Jack glanced over at her, "Yer entire attitude has changed since da ride over here. Yer still afraid of him?"

Floaty paused, "I'm angry with him, not afraid. I'm also worried because he's finally getting to meet you, Lily's father….And I'm afraid of what he may say about our daughter. Snyder's been calling her horrible things all day," her eyes glazed at the pain of recalling the words the warden had used to describe Lily. She blinked away the tears; now was not time for weakness or grief, it was time for strength. She had to become the Floaty Pulitzer was used to seeing, while remaining the girl Jack had loved and then befriended. _Suddenly I understand how hard a tight rope walker's job truly is._

Floaty hugged him back, "He may mention Lily." She felt her ex-boyfriend's shoulders tense, and to her surprise he placed a kiss on the top of her forehead.

"Den let him; there ain't nothin' bad he can say about her. If does say anythin', we know it ain't true."

Floaty nodded as Jack pulled away and returned to observing the room. He bent down in front of a oval shaped metal picture frame and picked it up. At the moment, Pulitzer began descending the stairs; the sounds of his heavy footsteps against the wooden steps caused Jack to turn and look up at him. Floaty followed his gaze and decided she'd do anything it would take to keep Jack safe. Even if it meant getting herself arrested (again) or, even worse, beaten up by a bull; maybe she could help Jack escape?

Pulitzer stood in front of Jack a moment later and gestured at him, "Sit!" He spoke to Cowboy as if he was commanding a dog. Jack glanced over at her and Floaty rolled her eyes; he treated her the same way more often than not. Jack looked over at Pulitzer, blinking a few times, obviously shocked. _Pulitzer does not believe in ice breakers, _Floaty thought to herself.

Jack sat down in the wooden chair and put his arms onto the arm rests.

"You know what I was doing at your age, boy?" Pulitzer pushed aside his smoking jacket and reached for a cigar. He glanced at Emmalyn, "You know what I was doing."

"Yes, sir." Floaty nodded as she clasped her hands in front of her and stood protectively beside Jack.

Pulitzer bent pointed to the photograph, "I was in a war!" Jack glanced over at the photograph. "The Civil War," Pulitzer continued.

"Yeah, I've heard of it," Cowboy nodded and looked over at Floaty, "She told me."

"Emmalyn's a very smart young woman."

Jack nodded at that. "So…Did ya win?"

"People think that wars are about what's right or wrong," Pulitzer walked around his dining room table, "But not about _power_."

"Yeah, I heard o'dat too. You know, I don't just sell your papes, Joe…sometimes, I read 'um."

Floaty had to bite the sides of her mouth to keep from smiling. But as Pulitzer neared, she nudged Jack and whispered, "Be careful, he has mood swings."

Pulitzer placed his hand against the back of a chair and leaned down, "The power of the press is the greatest power of them all. I tell the city how to think, I tell the city how to vote, _I_ shape its future." He gestured his hand forward towards an aerial drawing of the city of New York.

"Yeah….Well….Right now I'm just thinkin' about one future and dat's mine."

Pulitzer paused and leaned against the chair in front of Jack, "So am I, boy." He glanced over at Floaty, she tensed but remained silent. She wouldn't move from Jack's side. Pulitzer continued, "I have the power to see you stay locked in the refuge."

"And I have da power to break out again." Jack replied, leaning forward slightly.

Floaty tapped his shoulder and shook her head, she noticed Pulitzer was tensing. Jack leaned back and nodded slightly to her.

"_Or_ I could see you're released tomorrow, free and clear, with more money in your pockets than in erm….Three lifetimes." Pulitzer replied. Floaty's eyes widened; this was trouble, big trouble. Jack was going to keep his eyes peeled; ears open, and not do anything stupid. Pulitzer was up to something _bad._

Jack shifted uncomfortably, "Are you bribin' me, Joe?"

"W….Well….Why….No," Pulitzer shrugged.

Jack stood, "Well, it was nice chattin' wid ya Joe, but I gotta get goin' now."

"Wait! You listen to _me_ boy! Now, you shut your mouth and listen to me!" Pulitzer's face was beginning to turn red, his hands gesturing wildly. Floaty recognized her employer's temper and she walked in front of Jack. He tried to pull her out of the way, but she wouldn't budge. If Pulitzer was going to yell at anyone, it had better be her; Jack had enough trouble on his plate, he didn't need more.

"You shut up and listen to me for once!" Pulitzer shouted, he was so angry he was shaking from head to toe and his eyes were completely unfocused.

"Mr. Pulitzer, he's not going anywhere, he's listening. We both are," Floaty said softly, she had been able to calm the old man down before; she hoped she could do it again. He looked down at her, inhaled and paused to collect himself.

"You better be glad, boy, that she's here." Pulitzer growled, "Or you'd be in more trouble than you're in."

"Yeah, well, I wish she wasn't here. She, of all people, doesn't deserve to be around you." Jack retorted and took her hand.

"Jack, stop," she hissed, "Don't get him anymore angry than he already is!"

"Its fine Floats," he replied.

Pulitzer took a step forward, his gaze never leaving Jack's face, "_You_ work for _me_. Until the strike is over and then boy, make no mistake without you, then you go anywhere you want to buy a ticket for."

Floaty's stomach twisted, Pulitzer had found out about Jack's dream of going to Santa Fe. Being able to go to Santa Fe, for Jack, was like being told he had a pass to go directly to Heaven without dying. She grabbed his hand, but he pulled away.

"Away from the refuge, these fowl streets, _free_!" He paused and glanced at Floaty, "Free the pain of having to walk past your daughter's grave!" Jack flinched and Floaty felt as if Pulitzer had just shoved a knife through her heart. "Free, with money to spend, and no one chasing you!" Pulitzer finished.

Jack stared at Pulitzer for a long minute and Floaty's shoulder slumped, from the look on the newsboy's face, Floaty knew Pulitzer had won.

"Jack….You have friends here, the newsies are depending on you."

"Be quiet, Floats," he muttered. Floaty shook her head. Jack didn't realize he was making a deal with the Devil himself.

To Floaty's surprise, Jack smiled, "I must have ya pretty scared, old man."

"I offer you freedom and money, just to work for me again. To your friends I won't be so kind! Now your partner, what's his name, David?" Pulitzer glanced over at Floaty but she kept her mouth shut and her face expressionless. He looked back at Jack, who was now frowning, "I understand he has a family. What do you think the refuge would do to _him_?" He paused, and looked at Floaty, "Look what it has done to her!"

Floaty swallowed and glanced away.

"What?" Jack looked over at her, "Floats, what happened?"

"Nothing happened," she shrugged, "I spent the night, had breakfast and lunch, Snyder came to get me and that was that."

"Den what are those bruises?"

Floaty bit her bottom lip and remained silent; she couldn't bring herself to look Jack in the face. She wouldn't admit to anyone what had happened there.

"You know what happened," Pulitzer glared at Jack. "It's because of you I had to send her to the refuge to be straightened out. They did what they always do – they beat the lessons into her….And from what I understand, one guard went too far with her."

Jack grabbed her shoulders, his eyes wide, "Floats?"

"I…It was nothing, Jack," Floaty shrugged; she could feel the wall she built around her heart slowly crumbling against her will.

Jack cursed. He turned and snarled at Pulitzer, "You shoulda fired her! You know what happens to girls her age in dat place!"

Pulitzer glared, "It was you who put her there! It will be you who puts David there! And all the others….After all, you're their leader."

Jack glared at Pulitzer, hate shining in his eyes as he pulled Floaty to his chest. He whispered, "I'm so sorry, Floats. I never meant for ya to get hurt."

"Stop apologizing, Jack, you did nothing wrong. I was there because of _my_ actions, not because of yours. He's using me to get to you, don't fall for it." She whispered back to him.

"Go to the refuge tonight, think about it. Then, tomorrow, after your court hearing with Judge E.A. Monahan, give me your answer in the morning." He paused and stared at Jack, "Know this, you're future, your friends future, and Emmalyn's future are all on your shoulders." He shoved Jack forward and Floaty began to follow until Pulitzer grabbed her.

"Let her go, Joe." Jack growled when he noticed Floaty wasn't near him.

"She stays with me, boy. Even I'm not cruel enough to keep her trapped in the refuge where she could be killed. Know this; your answer decides her and your friends' fates." He pulled Floaty back into the living room as Sykes and Snyder 'escorted' Jack out of the house.

"Emmalyn," Pulitzer exclaimed, "Business is a man's world. I hope this entire experience has made you realize this. Because he dragged you into a man's world, you were punished like a man." He pushed her into a seat, "You are a young lady," he sat down in a chair in front of her, "And a hard worker. You will make someone a good wife, and I am willing to offer you a deal."

Floaty swallowed, "If it involves letting Jack go, then I'll agree to anything."

Pulitzer slammed his fist down on the arm of his chair, "That boy is out of my house! His deal and your deal are separate! With him, I made a business deal! With you," he leaned forward, "I am giving you the offer I would give to my sister's children. Do you want to hear it?"

"No…" she started until she noticed Kate standing at the second floor landing. The poor woman looked tired and frazzled and Floaty swallowed, she had a feeling this 'offer' had come from Kate, not from Pulitzer. In that case, she had to listen to it in respect for Mrs. Pulitzer and the fact that she had fought for Floaty. "Yes sir, I will listen."

Pulitzer leaned back, "Good, you're a smart and beautiful young lady, Emmalyn. I respect you, because you respect me and you've worked hard for me without complaint. I am willing to forgive your actions, however I will not be hiring you back. Instead, my wife and I have spoken and if you are willing to stay away from the newsies and their strike I am willing to give you this." He took a few rolled up papers out of his smoking jacket and passed it to her.

Floaty took them and slowly unrolled it and gasped her hand flying over her mouth.

"This would ensure you never have to worry about your uncle again. If you do not accept this offer, then the second offer is to stay in the refuge overnight then in the morning you will be married to Oscar Delancey."

Floaty glanced up at Pulitzer, and then back down at the papers, her heart was still pounding. Warden Snyder had adopted her.

"Those adoption papers are legal, and the warden's daughter died of Scarlet Fever eight years ago. He's willing to overlook your crime of aiding Jack Kelly. He wants to give you a new and better life. If you accept this offer, you will be a proper young lady in a proper household. You will be raised by Warden Snyder, and if you wish to work, anyone would hire you because of him."

"If I don't take this or the other offer?"

"Then you will join the boy and his friends in the refuge, and you will remain there until your 21st birthday. After that, your fate remains your own. However, I ask you to think carefully about your stay in the refuge before going along that path." He paused, "If you think by denying the two good offers and taking the third, you're protecting the boy and his friends, you're wrong. Whatever happens to you will not affect them or their fates. There's nothing you can do to stop me."

Floaty bit her bottom lip. Did she really want to be Emmalyn Snyder? She would be selling out her friends. But, if she took the second choice she'd be Mrs. Delancey. _If I was the warden's daughter, they'd have to let me into the refuge and I could free Jack and the others. But what if Snyder doesn't let me see them?_

"Thirty seconds," Pulitzer exclaimed.

_I can't do anything to help the others if I'm Mrs. Delancey – Oscar's just a hired thug. But Snyder, he's recognized by the community; if I were his daughter people would listen to me because of my last name. I could find a way to get the newsies freed – I could use the press! Hundreds of angry mothers against Pulitzer locking up street children without good rhyme or reason…..The mothers would win. _She had no doubt about that.

"The first."

Pulitzer smiled, and Floaty glanced up to see Kate Pulitzer looking relieved and more at ease. "Then," he exclaimed, "It's official, you're Emmalyn Snyder. Warden Snyder's daughter. I'll call the refuge and he'll be here in an hour to pick you up."

"Thank you, sir." Floaty replied as Pulitzer stood and walked out of the room; she could hear the murmuring of his voice as he talked to someone on the phone. She didn't notice Kate was standing beside her until she touched her hand. Surprised, Floaty looked up.

"I'm glad you took the first choice," Kate said with a tiny smile, "I had to fight my husband and the Warden hard for that. I told the Warden adopting a street child would make him a hero in society's eyes, and he's to treat you good." She knelt down beside Floaty's chair and whispered, "You're a smart young woman, I wanted you to say yes to the first because of the last name."

Floaty smiled, "I can use the power of the press against Pulitzer and Snyder and free my friends."

Kate smiled and nodded, "Trust me, thousands of good and angry parents outside of the refuge will take Snyder down and he will be forced to let your friends loose. My brother is a judge, and I will be sure he gives the order to release your friends from the refuge, alright?"

Floaty nodded, "Thank you so much, Mrs. Pulitzer."

Kate stroked the side of Floaty's face, "No, thank you. I haven't had to fight for anything in a long time, my husband has been too far gone…." She shook her head, "Our children are all grown and have long since married. You helped me get my voice back and reminded me that a marriage is 50-50, not 99 to 1. So thank you, dear, thank you."

"My friends….They're going to think I sold them out, and my boyfriend….." She stopped.

"Spot Conlon," Kate smiled, "I've heard about him. Don't worry; a messenger I've hired has already delivered a message to the Manhattan Lodging House. The newsies will know of your plan, and they will know you didn't sell them out."

Floaty nodded, "What about Jack?"

Kate sighed, "I'm sorry, Emmalyn, but there is nothing I can do for that young man. Believe me, if I could do more than I have already, I would have. But know you tried to protect him, and know that he knew when he started this strike there would be danger." She stood quickly when Pulitzer walked back into the room.

"Why aren't you in bed?" He asked her.

"I was going to getting a glass of milk from the ice chest; I wanted to know if you'd like a glass."

Pulitzer nodded, "That would be nice." He turned to Floaty, "Warden Snyder will be here to take you home in a few minutes." He handed her a small bag filled with coins, "This money is for you, not him. Go shopping tomorrow, buy decent clothing, and become the proper lady you were obviously meant to be."

"Yes sir," Floaty replied as she stood. When the Pulitzers left the room she darted to the parlor and grabbed the door handle.

"Emmalyn."

She turned and was surprised to find Sykes.

"Don't. Mrs. Pulitzer had to fight very hard for you. Don't ruin something good," he frowned. "You'll have more power as Miss Snyder than would as Miss McGongle."

"Mr. Sykes, I won't be associated with that rat of a man!"

Sykes sighed, "If you go, I'll be forced to call the police. You'll be back in the refuge, and no one, not even Pulitzer, will protect you. Would your friends, or Spot, really want you being thrown back into that hole where you could be hurt or killed? None of the guards would think twice of going farther than a kiss with you and killing you afterwards to keep you silent. Everyone would turn the other way. It would break every single one of your friend's hearts, including the one you just made," he glanced past her at Kate.

"Listen to me, Emmalyn, you're being given a powerful resource; you're a smart woman. I'm going to give you this advice: If you want to change the world, don't sleep through it. Use what gifts you've been given, every single one of them, and make Pulitzer and Snyder's lives a living Hell, pardon my French."

Floaty stared at Sykes in surprise, then smirked. "You know, being in the warden's house, I can find dirt no one else can and bring it to the newsies. We can spread the word and take down the newspaper giants."

"Now you have your thinking cap on." He smiled.

Floaty frowned, "But Spot..."

"You'll see him soon enough, knowing Snyder he'll bring you with him to court tomorrow to show off his good deed of adopting you. I'll help distract him so you can have a moment alone with Conlon."

Floaty gave a small smile, "Thank you."

He nodded, "Here's Snyder's carriage, walk tall and keep your head held high. Then, tonight, find some dirt on that rat and give it to Spot in the morning.

Floaty smiled, "I intend to."


	11. To The Refuge? & Move Along Monahan

_**Disclaimer: I do not own newsies or any of its characters, they belong to Disney. Floaty belongs to Dimensionaltraveller, so does Trench. Riley Cavanaugh belongs to me.**_

**(**_**A/N: Hi everyone, thank you so much for all the awesome reviews and story adds! :-))**_

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Floaty kept to the other side of Warden Snyder's carriage; the moment she had climbed in earlier she knew he had broken his deal with Pulitzer. The horses pulled the carriage at a slow walk and Snyder busied himself folding the fifty dollars Pulitzer had given him just minutes ago.

"He paid me fifty dollars to sign to the certificate, and fifty dollars to agree to take you in," he suddenly exclaimed as he tucked the bills into his suit pocket. "He just didn't specify where to take you in to. I think you know where we're going though."

"The refuge."

Snyder smirked, "You'll remain there until your 21st birthday, and since I'm now your adopted father, I can change my mind at any time. I suggest you be good, and if you are I may decide to be kind and allow Oscar to court you each evening."

"I'd rather stay in solitary confinement until I was 30 than date that creep."

Snyder glared at her and she stared back. He could lock her in the refuge if he wanted, but she refused to be afraid of him. Maybe he could control the state of her freedom; but he couldn't control what she thought, felt, and dreamed. He scoffed and looked away from her.

"I see Mr. Pulitzer never truly knew who you were. Did he?"

"No," Floaty crossed her arms, "Then again, neither did I until recently."

He looked back at her, his eyebrows raised and lips pursed in question. Before any words could escape his lips the horses whinnied and screamed, the driver was shouting at someone to 'move along.'

"What is this?" Snyder growled.

"Don't look at me!" Floaty scowled, "No one knows where I am."

He looked past her and opened the black curtains that hung over the windows. He peeked out and for a long minute the two saw nothing until the driver's face was suddenly plastered against the glass. The man slowly slid down from the door and Floaty held back a shriek, the driver was unconscious not dead. Snyder had become as pale as a sheet and began to shake.

"Where's your gun?" Floaty cried out as she dropped onto the floorboard.

"I….I don't have one…." The warden stammered, "U…U…Usually there are guards around….To protect me.…"

Floaty rolled her eyes, "Sometimes you have to be your own white knight and save yourself. Get down here!"

"On the floor? This is a new suit!"

"You can get a new suit; you can't get a new body."

The warden snarled at her and when someone banged on the outside of the carriage door he yelped and ducked onto the floor. "I'm going to die! I'm a good Christian man, I'll go to Heaven, God will have mercy on me…." he babbled.

Floaty rolled her eyes, _All bullies are really cowards at heart, and he's proof of that!_

"You're not going to die," she hissed, "Just quiet down, we need to listen. Whoever is out there is unarmed – or not wanting to call attention to themselves with gunfire. That's good, it means we may be able to negotiate our way out of this with them."

"How do you know all this? Do all newsies know this?"

"I learned everything I know from my father, we were always running from Trench."

Snyder stared at her as if he were seeing her for the first time. Someone pounded on the carriage door again; Floaty raised a finger to her lips. She pressed her ear to her door and listened. Although it was hard to hear through the wood, she could hear the grumble of men's voices.

"Your uncle," Snyder accused.

Floaty shook her head, "Too sloppy," she whispered. "His men would have ripped open the door rather than create all this noise."

"Warden Snydah!" A man's voice shouted, "We know yer in dere!"

"Come on out!"

Floaty recognized the second voice as Oscar's. Why would Oscar be attacking a man he worked with? Supported even? She glanced at Snyder.

"I threw the Delancey's cousin, James, into the refuge last night" he whispered.

She rolled her eyes, "Did the officers arrest him, or did you?"

"Me."

"Bad idea," she hissed at him as one of the men hit Snyder's door once again.

"It's only gonna be a mattah of time, Warden, before dat door gives out!" Morris shouted.

Floaty nudged Snyder, "Shout to them you'll let James free."

"What? No! Are you insane? The more children…."

"The more money you get to put in your pocket," Floaty sneered, "Tell them or I'll step over you and open that door!"

"They'll kill me."

"Tell them you have me in here with you."

"Why?" Snyder seemed confused.

Floaty rolled her eyes, "What do I look like, a fish? You and Oscar have both bragged how I'll end up with him sooner or later. Why not sooner? I'll be your 'insurance policy'. In other words, I stay with them until you get James out."

"What 'insurance' do I have that they won't kill me or that they'll even give you back?"

"Gotta win something to lose something," she whispered, "Give me up and free James, and you win your life."

"And I lose two prisoners!"

"Or your life."

The carriage's glass shattered and Snyder let out a loud girlish scream before freezing. Floaty blinked, the warden had just become a living statue. She waved her hand in front of his face and received no reaction. _Don't people call this a catatonic coma?_ She wondered and sighed. Once again, she was going to have to take matters into her own hands. She climbed onto the seat over Snyder and kicked the carriage's door open.

"Well, about time!" Oscar shouted.

Floaty climbed out of the carriage with her hands raised. The carriage was surrounded by a ring of twelve men, including the Delanceys.

"Floaty?" Oscar looked stunned, "What da hell?"

"Snyder caught and arrested me."

"He seems ta be doin' a lot of dat," Morris grumbled. When Floaty glanced at him he blushed, "Uh…I mean…He's been doing that a lot lately." Oscar glared at his brother, and Morris gave a sheepish shrug.

"Well den, looks like tonight's our night, boys! Not only do we get me cousin outta the refuge, I get da girl of me dreams," Oscar smiled and reached for her waist.

Floaty stepped back, "The warden will free James, but one of you is going to have to take him to the refuge."

"He can't just walk dere?" Oscar reached for her once again, but she stepped away.

"Look inside," she replied with her hands on her hips. Two of the Delanceys friends looked inside and burst out laughing. They shouted at Oscar to come see the sight before them; Snyder was now lying on the floor, still frozen in terror. Obviously the laughter had caught the Delancey brothers' attention; they momentarily forgot her and went to see the living statue. Floaty took the opportunity to escape. She slipped into the shadows and ran towards Delancey Street, on the way she told a police officer that Warden Snyder was in trouble.

Maybe she shouldn't have run and left the warden in danger, but she wasn't overly concerned; the Delanceys were thugs, and dangerous ones at that. But they wouldn't kill Snyder...He paid them for bringing newsies and other street children to the refuge. If they killed the warden half of their meal ticket would be gone and they knew that. Floaty panted as she ran into the lodging house a minute later and to her surprise and horror, it was empty except for Kloppman.

"Mr. Kloppman?" She asked in fear something had happened to him. The older man walked out of the kitchen a minute later and smiled.

"Floaty!"

She ran over and gave him a hug, glad to be back in a friend's arms. She blinked to keep herself from crying and forced herself to build a wall around her emotions. She needed to be strong for her friends, for Jack, and for herself. _I just want everything to return to normal now!_ Kloppman stroked her hair and held her close.

"It's good to have ya back, Floaty." He smiled to her as he returned her hug.

Floaty smiled and stepped away, "It's good to be back. Where are the newsies?"

Kloppman frowned, "They're in jail, dey've all been arrested."

"What?" Floaty felt her heart skip a beat and her shoulders tensed with worry and fear for her friends. Was Pulitzer sending all the newsies to the refuge like he had threatened to? "Are…Are they alright?"

He shrugged, "I dunno, dey won't let me see them. I could hear their voices from da front of the police station, dey were angry."

"They have a right to be," she whispered.

"Their trial is in da mornin' around eleven if ya wanna go."

Floaty nodded, "I'll be there."

"Why don't ya go upstairs, wash up, come back down and get somethin' to eat, then go to bed. Ya stay here for the night, awright?"

Floaty nodded, "Thank you so much, Kloppman."

"Anytime."

_**

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The next morning, Floaty arrived at the courthouse at ten but struggled to into the building for an hour. She was a street rat, not a business man or secretary. Finally, she had gotten smart and used some of the money Pulitzer had given her to buy a new blouse and skirt; a yellow hair ribbon she tied her hair back into a braid with; and fresh muffins from the bakery. She returned to the courthouse.

"Ah'm bringing some breakfast for m'boss, Edgar, he's in _such_ a long trial today." She exclaimed in the best southern accent she could muster. "Ah'm also bringin' him some joyus news!" She giggled and placed her hand over her stomach, "We're having our second child!"

"Well, congratulations miss," the security guard smiled, "Go right in."

"Well, thank you sir," she smiled and gave a small curtsey, she handed him a fresh muffin, "You must be starved."

"Thanks you, Miss." He smiled as she turned and entered the courthouse. Where was Move Along Monahan's courtroom? The courthouse was huge; it had three levels of rooms.

"Excuse me, miss, are you lost?"

Floaty looked over to see a well dressed young man walking towards her, "Yes, sir, I'm looking for Judge E.A. Monahan's courtroom. It's my first day and I was supposed to bring him breakfast," she motioned to the bag of muffins, "But I don't know where I'm going."

The handsome brunette smiled, "This is a big place, I'll take you to his courtroom, follow me miss…."

"Cavanaugh, Riley Cavanaugh," Floaty smiled using the name her father had told her to use whenever she was in trouble or trying to hide from her uncle.

"Right this way, Miss Cavanaugh," he gestured forward and walked beside her. "When were you hired?"

"Yesterday, the judge hired me after hearing about my brother. He was one of the officers that helped to end the newsies' rally, one of those awful children shoved him off the balcony and he broke his leg! The judge was kind when he heard what happened and hired me so I can support my brother and I until his leg heals."

"The judge is a good man," the man smiled, "A real stand up fellow. My name is Dwight D. Bernam, Esquire."

"Well, it's nice to meet you Mr. Bernam," Floaty smiled as the stopped in front of a doorway, the golden plaque on it said: E.A. MONAHAN.

"Here's his office, his courtroom right beside it. I'd love to stay and help you, but I have a client to represent…..I….I'd love to speak with you more…."

"I would love to speak to you as well, but I really need to get these to him….A starving judge is never a happy judge."

The lawyer laughed, "All too true, Miss Cavanaugh! If you're not busy, maybe we can have lunch?"

"That would be wonderful….I just hope the judge doesn't fire me for my lateness."

"I'm sure he won't," Bernam laughed as he walked away. Floaty sighed; at least she was enough of a lady to trick a lawyer. Tricking lawyers wasn't easy to do. She moved away from Monahan's office door and opened one of the large white double doors leading into the courtroom. She stepped inside in time to hear Spot exclaim, "On da grounds of Brooklyn yer honor!"

Monahan pointed to the laughing newsies, "I fine each of you five dollars or two weeks confinement in the house of refuge."

"Woah…Woah…Woah….Hey, we ain't got five bucks," Racetrack looked worried. "We don't even got five cents!" He smirked, "Hey yer honor, how 'bout I roll ya for it?"

The newsies began laughing and Monahan waved them off.

"Alright, move along, move along!"

"Your honor, I'll pay the fines! All of them." Denton exclaimed as he walked in. Floaty looked at him surprise and happiness, he was a good friend to the newsies.

"Move it along!" Monahan snapped as Denton talked to the newsies. Jack was led in a minute later; his shackles and chains rattled and clinked together with each step he took. He looked around the courtroom and put on a false bravado. Floaty could see the heartbreak in his face. Her stomach twisted, he had made his decision. She swallowed and hoped she was wrong, but at hearing the iron doors to the other side of the courtroom squeak she knew she was right. Pulitzer was here and looking happy with himself. She sneered and was glad she was out from under that awful man's thumb; now, she needed to free Jack of him.

"Hey fellas!" Jack greeted.

"Hey Cowboy, nice shiner!" Race shouted with a smile.

"Hey Denton, I guess we made all da papes dis time. So how'd me picture look?" Jack asked as the reporter walked over to him.

"None of the papers covered the rally," he tossed a few bills onto the bailiff's desk. Floaty's heart fell at hearing that, the newsies had been hoping – praying even – that the rally would be enough to get everyone to hear of the strike. If other working kids heard of it then maybe they'd join the newsies and Pulitzer wouldn't have a choice but to lower the paper prices. Now, the strike seemed impossible….Like a lost cause. But it wasn't. They could start it up again. _The distribution center has an old paper press in the basement! The newsies can make their own pape! _Floaty thought to herself.

"The case of Jack Kelly cited for assault, escape, and resistant arrest." The bailiff exclaimed and watched as Jack was led towards Monahan by a guard.

"Your honor, I'll speak for this young man," Snyder exclaimed as he walked over, his hat in hand. His left eye sported a shiner, his lip was split, and there was a small cut above his right eye. Obviously the Delanceys hadn't been overly kind to kind the previous night.

Floaty took a deep breath, "Your honor, if I may, I will be the one to speak for my brother."

Monahan looked at Snyder then to Floaty, "Well, who will speak for him?"

"I will," Floaty exclaimed quickly, Snyder turned towards her and Floaty's heart skipped a beat. She was certain he was going to have her arrested too; instead he stared at her as if he didn't know her. After a minute, she realized he knew _Floaty_, the street rat. Not the real _Emmalyn_, the Irish lady with good morals….Well, who once had good morals. Now, with all the lies she had been telling, she'd be lucky if lightning didn't strike her down the next time she passed a church. She paused and decided to use the Irish accent she had been hiding for so many years, anything to trick Snyder.

"And who are you?" Monahan questioned her.

"M'name is Riley Cavanaugh sir," she glanced over at David while saying this. He knew what the name meant. She looked back at the judge, "I'm one of the Sisters of Mercy…A member of an organi-zay-tion tha' takes young men and women, such as Mr. Kelly, and helps them onto the path of a better life. We find, yer honor, tha' it is easier for young people ta start their lives new without bars blocking their view or such dominant males as the Warden 'ere."

Monahan leaned back in his chair, "I've heard of this organization, Miss Cavanaugh; I've also heard children escape and go back to committing the crimes they did before."

Floaty gave a small smile, "We do 'ave some troubled children, but me mother's branch of the organi-zay-tion has priests an' grown men workin' for us to help keep the children from runnin'. If Mr. Kelly escapes, I shall take personal responsibil-itay."

"Your honor," Snyder exclaimed, "This girl is no older than 18 at the most! Mr. Kelly is a criminal, his name is Francis Sullivan, he's only around this girl's age."

The judge paused, "That is true…." He leaned back.

"I may be, yer honor, but Mr. Denton here is a member of our organi-zay-tion, an he'll bring Mr. Kelly, or whate'er he prefers ta be called here, to m'home?" Floaty tried to ignore the looks she was getting from Jack and the newsies, especially Spot – who was staring at her as if she were an angel.

"Mr. Denton," Monahan exclaimed, "Are you a member of this organization?"

Denton glanced at Floaty, obviously not appreciating that she had put him on the spot, "Yes sir, I am. I'm a good friend of Riley's mother, Mrs. Tegan Cavanaugh. She's a good Christian woman with strong morals and has helped over fifteen children – two of them have become junior reporters at the Sun."

"Your honor! There's no proof of this!" Snyder exclaimed, "If the girl's mother wanted Sullivan so badly, why is _she_ not here representing him?"

"She is," exclaimed a new voice. Floaty turned in surprise, Laurie was walking over with Victoria in her arms.

"Laurie," Floaty whispered, "What are ye doin' here? How….How did you know?"

Laurie smiled and whispered, "A little birdie named Kloppman told me when I stopped by the lodgin' house to see ye." She looked up at the Monahan, "I am Mrs. Tegan Cavanaugh, Judge Monahan, and I would like to take this boy home with us."

"It's rather convenient that you show up like this, Mrs. Cavanaugh." Monahan exclaimed.

"I was just outside tendin' to the wee one….She's has a wee problem with makin' the bathroom in time."

"Sir," Snyder exclaimed, "The refuge is the best place for Mr. Sullivan, we'll give him the resources and care he needs to become fit for society."

"Och! The last time I sent one of me children to ye, he returned with bruises and cuts an' would no' talk for a week!" Laurie objected.

Monahan paused, "Miss Cavanaugh," he addressed Floaty, "You are a proper young woman and this young man may….Cross the boundaries with you."

"I am fully prepared if tha' event should occur, Judge Monahan. I 'ave had more than one boy cross boundaries with me b'fore, and I am sure there will plenty more."

Monahan paused and glanced between Laurie and Snyder. Floaty crossed her fingers.

"I am sorry, Mrs. Cavanaugh, Miss Cavanaugh, Mr. Sullivan goes to the refuge. I cannot place a young man in the same home as a young woman. It is an endangerment to your virtue, Miss Cavanaugh. He is yours, Mr. Snyder."

"Yer honor, please!" Floaty begged, but Monahan banged down his gavel.

"Move along, move along!" He ordered.

Floaty's shoulder slumped and as Jack passed her he whispered, "Thanks for tryin' Floats, but I'm fine. I'm only gonna be in dat dump for an hour, dan Pulitzah is comin' to get me."

Floaty shook her head and Laurie wrapped an arm around her.

"C'mon, Lass, let's follow yer friends, we'll figure somethin' out."


	12. Reunion with Spot & The Arguement

_**Disclaimer: Ido not own newsies or any of its characters, they belong to Disney. Floaty belongs to DimensionalTraveller; Laurie and Victoria belong to me.**_

_**(A/N: Hi everyone, thank you all for the great reviews! :-) I'm thinking about doing a sequel to this story by changing the ending so it doesn't quite match DimensionalTraveller's "Tears from the Moon". What do you all think?)**_

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Lunch at Tibby's had been loud but solemn; everyone but Floaty was in shock that Jack was really a boy named Francis Sullivan and he was going to the refuge. Denton had kindly paid for lunch, and halfway through David had become angry and left with Les. A few minutes later, Laurie placed her hand on Floaty's shoulder and offered a small and comforting smile, "I'll be back at the boardin' house with Victoria if ye need me, lass."

"Thanks, Laurie. I would have been lost without you."

Laurie scoffed, "Nonsense Emmalyn! Ye are a strong woman, love, and ye could've pulled off tha' trick alone. Now ye finish yer lunch with this 'andsome boy here. I will see ye later."

Floaty nodded and turned her attention back to Spot; he too was flabbergasted at Jack's actions, but not shocked enough to avoid drawing her into his arms and kissing her. Floaty wrapped her arms around his shoulders and returned the kiss; and this time the passion in the heated kiss was from both parties instead of only one.

"You two comin' up for air anytime soon?" Racetrack laughed from a table across the room. The two pulled away and Spot turned towards the gambling newsie.

"When ya find yerself a girl, Race, you remind of that," he grumbled and stood, offering Floaty his arm. She smiled and looped her arm through his. Spot turned back to the newsies, "If you all hear any news about Jacky boy come get Floaty and I. We'll be in Central Park around da lake." He walked out the door with her; the walk to Central Park was quiet without the newsies shouting the headlines. Floaty glanced over at the World Building and saw young boy around her age with a leather World messenger bag around his shoulder; he was running in the direction of Brooklyn. _It hasn't been a day and he's already replaced me. Some 'valuable' employee I turned out to be._

"You alright?" Spot asked, noticing her sudden change in body language at the sight of Pulitzer's new messenger.

"I'm fine. I'm glad that you helped me escape that man." She paused, "Jack's trapped himself…."

"Trapped 'imself?"

Floaty pulled Spot into the mouth of an alley way and quickly unburdened herself of the knowledge of Pulitzer's deal. She left out his deal with her; she didn't want Spot to know that her last name, at least in the eyes of the law now, was Snyder. That was a secret she wanted no one to find out. Floaty could understand now why Jack had been hiding his real name from everyone; he didn't want to be associated with his criminal father – a drunken poor excuse of a man. By the time she finished telling Spot the conversation between Pulitzer and Jack, and what Jack had told her as he was being led out by Snyder, the Newsie King was livid.

"He _accepted_ dat tight wad's deal? What happened to all dis, Oh yeah Spot I can stand up to any and every goon?" Spot's face was red, his eyes had narrowed and Floaty backed away. She placed her hands on her hips.

"Well, I'm not happy about it either. But yelling, shouting, and making yourself as red as Santa Claus's suit won't help anything."

Spot fell silent and became as still as a statue. He looked towards her as if seeing her in a new light, "Floats…."

"What?" She was startled, he was staring at her in a way that she couldn't read his face. The past two days for Floaty had been horrible; if Spot was going to say 'I want to be friends from now on' than the saying 'bad things come in threes' would be true.

"You've changed. Yer tougher, speakin' your mind, and….Promise me you'll dress like dat every day?" He took her hand, bent, and kissed the top of it before he pulled her into his embrace and held her for a long minute. Floaty was startled, what on Earth had brought _that_ on? Had she really changed that much? She knew she had changed a little….But she didn't think it was all that noticeable. He pulled away and stared at her for a long minute and every fiber in her being shouted, _tell him now! Tell him before you lose him like you lost your father and Jack!_

"Floaty…"

"Spot…."

"I love you!" The two exclaimed in unison and paused, both stunned into silence. Suddenly, a huge smile crossed Spot's face and Floaty laughed. All the worrying she had done that Spot would never know her feelings for him fizzled away like the fizzy bubbles in a root beer. Relief flooded through her as she wrapped her arms around the King of New York.

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Three hours later, the World Gates opened and wagons filled with freshly printed newspapers and scabs were being led into the World Distribution Center; all were being led by Jack Kelly, who was surrounded by bulls, Weasel, and the Delancey brothers. The newsies shouted at Jack, accusing him of being a sellout; David was permitted to talk to him for a minute. All the noise blocked their conversation and no matter how hard Spot and Floaty fought to talk to their friend, they were only shoved back into the crowd by the police….An unmoving wall of blue. David was suddenly pushed back into the crowd and Jack walked on into the gates of the Distribution Center.

"Damn it!" Spot shouted, "He's a dirty rotten scabbah!"

"Spot, he was trying to protect you all! If one of us could just get in there to talk to him," Floaty frowned.

"Oh, we'll have da chance," Spot sneered, "Now we ain't got a choice. We gotta end da strike and sell papes again," he shook his head, disgusted. "He shoulda used our code in that courtroom, Floats! We both know sign language!"

"How did you learn sign language?" Floaty watched as the angry crowd of newsies began to break up. The Brooklyn newsies were returning home, and the Manhattan newsies – seeing no other choice – were walking through the Distribution Center's gates.

Spot paused for a long minute, "Ya can't tell no one else this, it's somethin' dat's real private to me. I used to have a sister, her name was Belinda. She was deaf, so was me dad. He taught me and Belinda sign language when I was real little so we could talk. I in turn taught it to Jack when we became friends."

Floaty nodded, "What happened to Belinda?"

Spot swallowed, "She was killed. A spooked horse trampled her, she was only seven when it happened."

"I'm so sorry."

He nodded, "Yeah, I am too. One day I'm gonna find whoever spooked dat horse and soak him." He returned to the matter at hand, "There ain't no way we're gettin' into the building itself."

Floaty glanced over at the gates, and Oscar and Morris were leaning against one of the large black metal gates laughing and joking. Obviously they were enjoying the newsies failed strike. "I know a way."

"What way?"

Floaty glanced at Oscar, "He wants his chance with me? He's got it."

"No! No way!"

Floaty turned towards him, "Do you want me to try to help Jack or not? You can stay mad at him, but that will do nothing more than push him away farther. He'll never tell you why he accepted Pulitzer's deal, _ever_. He's too proud. But I told you. You know why he turned scab and ended the strike." She paused, "He did it for the same reason I became his messenger all those years ago and stayed his messenger until now….He was protecting his family. Family isn't only who you're related too, it's who you love and who loves you in return; it's the people who make you happy. He was protecting you….Us…."

"Us?"

Floaty nodded; "Pulitzer threatened me too in order to scare Jack even more."

Sighing, Spot removed his hat and pushed his hand through his hair. Floaty knew from his expression he was thinking and weighing the outcomes of Floaty using Oscar. "Dis plan of yours could backfire. Everyone knows dat Oscar wants ya for himself; he's been a real loud mouth about it. He may not let ya go once he's got ya."

"He won't ever 'have' me Spot, lets him think he has me. Then I'll get away from him and tell you what happened between Jack and I."

"So dat's your big plan? Let him think yer his, talk to Jacky boy, den escape? There's no safety nets, no guarantee Oscar won't take matters into his own hands….And whose ta say he'll even let ya talk to Cowboy?"

"He will….Trust me."

Spot crossed his arms and shook his head, "No, I can't. It's too dangerous; dere's nothin' protectin' you from him."

"Yes there is," Floaty squared her jaw; she really hadn't wanted to tell Spot what happened with herself, Pulitzer, and Snyder. But now she had no choice. "Pulitzer drew up adoption papers and had them signed, dated, and stamped by a judge. He and Snyder both signed it. I'm seventeen and still a child in the law's eyes, Snyder adopted me for the money Pulitzer was bribing him with – one hundred dollars."

Spot's eyes widened.

"Either I accepted that deal, married Oscar, or returned to the refuge where I would stay until my twenty first birthday…And you all would join me. I accepted the first deal and Snyder, big surprise, didn't live up to his. I was going back to the refuge anyway. Oscar, Morris, and their friends surrounded our carriage because Snyder, the jerk that he is, arrested their cousin; the Delanceys soaked him and I got away. I can use his last name and tell them that I have the power to see that they're cousin returns to the refuge and stays there."

Spot looked as if Floaty had just smacked him. "Yer a Snyder now?"

"Legally," Floaty scoffed, "I'm still Emmalyn Floaty McGongle."

Spot stared at her, and for a moment she thought he was going to tell her to take a hike. Instead he softly said, "Ya never told me your middle name," then smiled.

Floaty laughed, "Well, I have told you in a way."

Spot's face scrunched and he went from happy and cocky to puzzled.

"My middle name is Riley and my grandmother's maiden name was Cavanaugh. So, how do you feel about an old fashioned argument? The kind, if it were real, would tear a couple apart?"

Spot scratched his chin, "As long as we make it fake, cause I want ya back."

Floaty paused, "We'll argue over something stupid." She glanced past him at Weasel and Agatha kissing and an idea formed in her head.

_**

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**_

Oscar sneered as Weasel and Agatha kissed once again; did those two every cut that out? After seeing it a hundred times it was disgusting. He glanced over at Morris, who was watching his uncle and his ex-girlfriend; before he had been almost jealous enough to soak his uncle. Now, he could care less, he was dating Brooklyn's ex-second in command, Chancy. Although she was a newsie, both Delanceys had to admit she was quite a catch. _Not as good at Floaty though._

"Get away from me, Spot Conlon!" Floaty shouted from across the street, she kept pushing Conlon away from her. Oscar stood up and watched the argument interest.

"Well, well, what do we have here?" He smirked and glanced at Morris.

"Maybe yer gonna have your girl after all," Morris exclaimed with a devilish smile.

"Aw, c'mon, Floats…..Wait!" The newsie king himself shouted, his face filled with anger and remorse. Judging from the look on Floaty's face, whatever trouble Conlon had gotten himself into, he wasn't going to get out of any time soon. Oscar's heart pounded, he _finally_ had his chance – Floaty was angry with Spot….And if he eavesdropped a little more….Perhaps he'd find out why she was angry with Conlon. Then, he could use that against the Brooklyn leader at any time he wanted. This was too good to be true!

"No, I will not wait! You called me a pawn.…A…A lackey!" She shouted back at Spot, her face was red and her eyes were beginning to glaze over in tears.

"Well," Spot stopped in middle of the street, "Ya were until Pulitzah fired you. It wasn't as if ya were somethin' special, besides now that you ain't workin' for him I don't got any use for ya….I mean…." He winced.

"You haven't got any _use_ for me?" Floaty cried out, extremely upset, "Well then, Mr. Conlon, I hate to break this to you….You may be feared, but you lack the influence needed to be respected."

"Well….Dat's why I was datin' you. Ya really thought I liked ya?"

Oscar had enough, he couldn't watch Spot Conlon, 'the ladies' man' tear into Floaty anymore. He figured the newsboy was blind; Floaty's appearance had completely changed. She was wearing a new skirt and blouse, her hair was in a braid with a yellow ribbon tied at the end. The braid made her look older and revealed all the beauty that had been once hidden by her curly red hair.

"Hey, Conlon! Back off," Oscar snarled as he stepped in front of Floaty. Would she push him away like she always did? He hoped not.

"Back off, Delancey! Dis ain't your problem!" Spot glanced at Floaty, "Look, Sport likes ya….You can date him…How 'bout it?"

"How about you drop dead?"

Spot growled and took a step forward; Oscar kept in front of Floaty. Suddenly, Spot backed down and glanced at him, "Ya want her? You got her, she ain't worth me time anyway."

Oscar turned towards Floaty and his heart broke. She had wrapped her arms around herself, as if she were hugging herself, tears cascaded down her cheeks as her shoulders shook. A few strands of her hair had come loose from the braid and hung around the sides of her face. Unable to stay away her, Oscar stepped forward and reached his arms out to her. He paused, thinking she would draw away, instead she remained perfectly still. He wrapped his arms around her and drew her close to his chest.

"Shh….It's okay, Oscah's got ya now," he whispered and stroked her hair. Oscar kissed the top of her head and to his surprise she leaned into him and rested her forehead against his chest. _She's never cried in front of no one before! Especially not me! Conlon musta hurt her real bad….And he says I'm a monster._

"Oscar…" Floaty sniffled, "Thank….Thank you so much…..I….He…Spot…" Floaty was so upset that she was babbling. "He….He….Said he loved me….Then when I told him….P-Pulitzer f-f-fired me…." She gave a small sob and after a long moment collected herself long enough to finish her story, "…S…Spot said….He said….I was worthless now….I….I could be some nameless whore for all he cared. He said I was of….of….No value to him."

_So dat's all that Conlon wanted – someone who may get him in touch with Pulitzah._ Oscar pulled away a little and used his thumbs to wipe the tears off her cheeks. She stared up at him, her nose and cheeks bright red. Her dark brown eyes shined with pain and something he couldn't quite put his finger on. Standing there, she reminded him of the statues he had seen in rich peoples' cemeteries….The statues of crying angels.

"He was stupid…." Oscar said softly, "Spot had no idea he had an angel. But I know yer an angel, I've always known. I'd nevah treat you like dat, ever. You're an intelligent and beautiful woman….Conlon was stupid ta only see ya as Pulitzah's employee….I see ya for who you are. A woman who wants to make dis world a better place, right?"

Floaty sniffled and nodded, "I….I never knew that you knew me so well…Oscar….I was blind."

Oscar smirked, "Naw, you were love struck. Conlon tends ta do dat to pretty girls. He likes to have them hangin' off his arm and then he pushes them away once he's got what he wants outta dem."

Floaty nodded. Oscar paused, "Where are ya stayin'?"

"I was staying at the Brooklyn lodging house….But I never want to see that place again….The boarding house won't take me any more….It's too expensive. The only reason they let me stay was because Pulitzer put me there and they wanted to be associated with his name. I…I could see if the church…"

"No, you'll stay wid us, Morris and me. We live in an apartment dat's connected to the distribution centah. It ain't much, but we call it home."

"Are you sure?" She wiped the tears from her cheeks, "What will your uncle say?"

"He'll be glad dat you're awright," Oscar beamed.

Floaty paused, "I can work for you all….I can sew your clothes and do your housekeeping."

"Well….Awright." He shrugged, "Only if ya don't mind."

"Not at all, I'm thankful to you….I….I really owe you. I don't know how to thank you."

"Have dinner wid me tomorrow night, we can get to know one another."

Floaty nodded, "I'd love too."

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Spot watched as Oscar led Floaty towards the distribution center. He smirked; Floaty was one hell of an actress. After everything had settled down, he'd take her by Medda's and have her show off, maybe Medda would hire her? Keeping an eye on Oscar as he walked Floaty through the gates, Spot chuckled. _Oscah's gonna wake up wid heart burn tomorrow!_

Spot walked across newspaper row and into the bakery. He would stay in Manhattan and return to the distribution center at midnight to pick Floaty up and take her to Brooklyn. Hopefully she'd find Jacky boy and get this entire mess sorted out.

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Floaty was proud of her acting skills, they had helped her throughout her entire life as they had earlier that afternoon. Oscar had been sickeningly sweet; any hoity toity girl would have probably blushed, giggled, and possibly swooned at his words. She was surprised she didn't have cavities by now. It had taken the Delancey brothers and Weasel hours to go to sleep. Weasel had confronted her before he went to bed; he stated he wanted her out from under his roof by next week at the latest. _It will be much sooner than you think. If you really think I want to be in this dump, you're dead wrong._

Floaty crept from her room into the dark distribution center; she had found an oil lantern tucked in the hall closet. After scraping her fingers on the floor and getting a few splinters, she found a box of matches as well. She had watched Weasel lead Jack down into the basement; Floaty hoped he was still there. She pulled open the trap door and climbed down the steps.

"Whose dere?" Jack whispered.

"Floaty."

"Floats? What da hell are you doin' here?" Jack stepped into the lantern light as Floaty climbed down the last step. The golden glow of the dancing flame made the basement appear extremely creepy and Floaty wasn't sure how Jack could tolerate being there. However, any thing was better than the refuge.

Floaty stared at him and his new clothing. Pulitzer had always given her clothing from the donations box; the clothes Cowboy was wearing were tailored to fit his body exactly. A little bit of jealousy sparked through her but she shrugged it off. No reason to be jealous of a boy who had no idea he had just made a deal with the devil….Almost the same deal she had made with Pulitzer all those years ago.

"Jack….You made a mistake," she said softly, "Pulitzer's deal….He just talked you into it so he'd own you. You have a quality about you that make people like you – your smile, your laugh, and the way you care. You have power and influence, and Pulitzer's afraid of that. He figures if he has you on his payroll you'll never go anywhere."

"I will be goin' somewhere, to Santa Fe." Jack paused, "You worked for him widout much complaint for years. Why da sudden anger toward him? Cause he fired ya? Or because he has a new favorite?" He sat down on a crate and leaned back, staring at her. His face seemed to be saying 'I hate you' while his eyes seemed to shout 'please forgive me!'

"You really think I was Pulitzer's 'favorite'? You're dead wrong; he gave me to Snyder, Jack. He gave Snyder one hundred dollars to adopt me, and you know where I was going? Straight back to the refuge! I was going to have to stay there until my twenty first birthday! I know you know how that feels." She paused, "If I were his favorite, he would have adopted me instead of making the law see me as Emmalyn 'Snyder'."

"Snydah adopted ya?" Jack appeared momentarily shocked.

Floaty snorted, "For the money." She paused, "Jack….You're gifted and Pulitzer sees that. He knew that the newsie strike was growing to be a force to be reckoned with. The fact that one newsboy could start such a huge disruption in the city scared him. Come with me; end the strike that you started. We end it with Pulitzer lowering the prices of papers!"

Jack shook his head, "It ain't gonna happen Floats. It never woulda happened; I was stupid for thinkin' I could beat him. I was a no body, a nothin' before….Invisible. Now I got money in me pockets, Pulitzah's name backin' me up, and I'm finally someone. I can go to Santa Fe. He's gonna hire some grammar teacher to teach me proper English so I can be a reporter!"

Floaty glared at him, "And you really believe his lies Jack?"

"Why shouldn't I? He paid for our dead kid's funeral…" He stopped and winced, the words hurting him. Anger and hurt stabbed Floaty through the heart like a blade made of ice. She glared at Jack and struggled to keep herself from crying.

"Yes…..He paid for our 'dead kid's' funeral. For _Lily's_ funeral….And that came with a price you never knew about because I didn't want you to know! In return, I had to swear to Pulitzer that no matter what happened – even if I was fired one day – that I would always come back to work for him….As whatever he wanted me too. A messenger, a _grammar teacher_, a secretary, anything."

Jack appeared startled, "Why didn't ya tell me dat?"

Floaty snorted, "Because I knew what you would say."

"Listen, Floats, whatever I got meself into….I'm glad I did. After all da newsies are back to work, Pulitzah's gonna give me more money and I can go to Santa Fe. You'll never see me again."

"Well, you should remember that you'll never see us again either." Floaty whispered, "I feel so bad for you, Jack. I know why you're doing what you're doing – you're protecting your friends….Who are your family….My family too. But all you're doing is hurting yourself. Trust me; he won't give you more money. Instead, you'll either be a glorified newsie, or he'll make you into his new messenger. And if he does do the latter, then let me warn you: Learn to run fast. If you're late….Well, let's just say the Queen of Hearts from the Alice of Wonderland book would run from Pulitzer when she saw his temper."

Jack shrugged, "Dat's a chance I'm willin' to take."

"Fine, but I'm here when you need me….I can't make that promise for the others….And just to let you know….I fell in love with Spot Conlon."

"I wish ya two da best of luck."

"Yeah, I'm sure you do." Floaty paused, "You have a girl waiting for you too, Jack. Don't forget that." She took a deep breath, "Take care, Jack….And be warned, half the newsies are out to soak you."

"I can take of meself."

"Sure you can." Floaty turned and walked up the staircase.

"Floats….How did ya get here?"

Floaty paused, "That's Emmalyn to you, Jack. I have my ways."

"Floats, ya just said…."

"Don't call me Floats, the boy who called me that was a vibrant and brave young man who died earlier today. Have some respect for the dead. And I will help you, Mr. Kelly, but that doesn't mean I'm not going to be angry with you." Floaty climbed back into the distribution center and shut the trap door. That had not gone well, not in the least little bit. But after that 'dead kid' comment, Floaty's heart had shattered. She wasn't sure if Jack really meant that or not.

She snuck out of the distribution center and climbed onto the two iron gates, with help from Spot and Sport, she made it onto the other side.

"How'd it go?" Spot asked as he took her hand and led her towards Brooklyn.

"Not good….Not good at all."


	13. Finding A New Leader & Cowboy's Return

_**Disclaimer: I do not own newsies or any of its characters, they belong to Disney. Floaty, Lily, and Patrick belong to DimensionalTraveller. I do not own the words on Lily's tombstone, they come from the song, "10,000 Miles" by Mary Chapin Carpenter.  
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_**(A/N: Hi everyone! :-) Thank you all so much for the awesome reviews and story adds! Special thanks to Leah. :-) Also, check out the Youtube Video "Spot Conlon" by NerdyGirl77. It's an awesome video all about Spot to the chorus of "King of New York".)**_

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_**June 1, 1890**_

"_Emmalyn, love, do not walk on graves," Patrick scolded his five year old daughter. He had been fired from the furniture factory; and until he could get a better paying job, he worked as the St. Joseph Catholic Cemetery's undertaker._

"_But papa, there was butterfly!" She pointed at the butterfly that sat atop a flower in front of a tombstone. It had beautiful dark blue wings with black stripes, making it look like an oddly colored zebra._

"_A very pretty 'un indeed, love. But ye must never walk on an uaigh, grave, 'tis the same as walkin' on a sleepin' person."_

_Emmalyn lowered her head, "Sorry, papa."_

"'_Tis alright, Love, ye didn't know…." He paused, "I have finished the rakin' for today, how about we go and get some ice cream, aye?"_

"_Aye!"_

_**1899**_

The next morning Spot was at the Manhattan Lodging House talking to Jack's closest friends individually. Floaty was sitting on the floor beneath Jack's bunk helping Racetrack gather all of their former leader's possessions; a messenger boy would come by for them later. Pulling out his coat, Floaty shook it out and jumped when a small moth flew out.

"Jack hates dat coat…He was always swearin' he'd get a new one. Guess he can do dat now," Race muttered; his expression was angry but his eyes were sad. Although Cowboy had hurt each and every one of them, they secretly hoped he'd come to his senses and return to being the Jack they all knew and loved. Floaty glanced over at the empty bunkroom; it would only be a matter of time after every newsie was interviewed and Spot chose a new Manhattan leader. As the newsie king, it was his duty to approve new leaders or choose them.

Floaty nodded, "Yes, he can. I hope he comes to his senses, Race."

"Who cares? Even if he does, who's to say he won't lose dem again when Pulitzah waves money in front of his face?" Race tossed Jack's old cap into the cardboard box. "Ya know, Floats, when ya started workin' for Pulitzah we were real angry."

Floaty glanced up at him in surprise; the newsies had never seemed upset by her 'decision'.

Race continued, "You're a sweet girl and we knew Pulitzah would probably mess ya up. But it was Jack who told us, 'give da girl a chance! She's lost just as much as we have – if she has a chance, den let her take it!' But ya never cut us off….Not until a few years later, when Lily passed; den ya started talkin' to us again….Even when ya weren't talkin' to us, you left little things. Ya paid for me lunch at Tibby's twice, same thing with Jack's."

Floaty shifted, it was time for her to tell the other newsies about Lily. Glancing at Race, she slowly stood and smoothed out her skirt then wrung her hands nervously. Her stomach twisted and her heart pounded, _What will the newsies think? Will they be angry with me for not telling them about Lily?_

"Hey everyone, I um...If you all could stop from what you're doing for a moment...There's something I need to talk to you about." Floaty watched as the newsies paused from what they were doing. Blink, Mush, and a few others were playing poker; Snipeshooter, Tumbler, and Boots were pretending to be dueling pirates; while Pie-Eater, Jake, and Dusty were talking and laughing with one another. "Um...Boots, Snipeshooter, Tumbler...How about you go play in the lobby for a few minutes?" They heard about this kind of thing every day in the newspapers, but she wanted that to remain distant from them - just news print. The trio of boys glanced at one another before they stood up and walked out with their swords, though they occasionally glanced back at Floaty until they were down the hallway._  
_

Taking a deep breath Floaty began to tell the newsies her secret; so far only Jack, David, Spot, and Race knew...Now all the newsies would know. "Jack and I were dating." Dutchy entered the room as she began and he stared at her, his jaw had fallen open. Floaty blushed, but continued, "We fell in love and the month after I began working for Pulitzer, I found out I was pregnant."

"Oh, Floats…." Mush frowned.

"Pulitzer still had me running to deliver his messages, until I was five months pregnant. Until I gave birth, my job was to clean Pulitzer's office and help his staff. Then, I had Jack and I's daughter, Lily." Her eyes stung as she thought of her beautiful baby girl; her baby who had never been given a chance to say her first words, let alone baby words. "Oh guys, she was such a beautiful baby….She had blue eyes like Jack's, and blonde hair, and Jack swore she had my smile." She blinked rapidly, but the tears she had been fighting began to fall down her cheeks. "She got sick….And we didn't have money for a doctor….She died a month after she was born." She wiped the tears from her eyes and cheeks and sniffled.

"Floats….I'm so sorry," Blink whispered, a frown on his face.

"It's okay, Blink. She's safe now, where she can never be sick again." Floaty gave a tiny smile, "I like to think of her as being a toddler now, and she's being raised by the angels….One day, when it's my time, she'll be waiting for me and I'll finally be able to see her again."

Pie-Eater nodded from across the room and cleared his throat; he obviously hadn't been expecting to hear that. No newsie had been expecting to hear that from Floaty.

Race glanced back at Jack's possessions, "Let's keep goin' through dese."

Floaty nodded in complete agreement. The newsies gathered together and began talking amonst themselves; she was worried what they would think of her - but she felt better knowing she was no longer hiding such a large secret from them. They were her family, and they deserved the right to know that at one point they had all been uncles...Even though it was only for a short amount of time. Floaty kept Jack's comment from the previous night to herself, though she did share it with Spot when she woke up in middle of the night crying her eyes out. The Brooklyn Leader had been so angry he almost charged out of the lodging house and towards Manhattan to soak Cowboy. Floaty stopped him; the largest punishment of them all was Jack having to live with the words he used to describe Lily. Until the day he died he would remember he called their daughter 'our dead kid' as if she were some bad memory that should be swept under a rug and forgotten about.

Race pulled out an old tin with horses painted on the front of it. Curiously he peeked inside, "Floaty."

"Yeah?" She looked over and her eyes widened, her mouth falling open slightly. Inside the tin were a few pennies, nickels, and dimes. Lying on top of them was a photograph of Lily in 15 year old Floaty's arms.

Spot opened the door to the adjacent bunkroom, and Floaty looked up. Skittery was walking out, grumbling under his breath. Spot looked over at Race, "Racetrack."

Race handed her the photo, "Maybe Denton can take a picture of it for ya?" He hopped onto his feet and walked over to the Spot. Floaty glanced towards them and noticed Spot was staring at her for a long minute; she gave him a small smile, he gave a nod then shut the door behind himself and Race.

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Race didn't want to say anything, but he was nervous. Spot was usually a laid back guy, as long as it was poker night or the newsies were just talking and having fun. But now it was business, there was no fun in replacing a leader….A leader who was once your best friend and now a backstabbing scab. Floaty and Spot had both explained Pulitzer's deal with Jack to them; however, every newsie agreed that Cowboy had been more focused on his dream to go to Santa Fe than on his friends. He knew the newsies could have gone into hiding for a while until things calmed down.

"Race," Spot leaned against a bunk, "Sit down."

Race sat down and shrugged, pretending he was calm and nonchalant; really he was nervous. What kind of questions was Spot going to ask him? _Dis must be how Davey felt when he was takin' all those tests in school._

"Do ya want to be da Manhattan leader?"

Race answered honestly, "Nope."

Spot nodded, "Well, ya ain't got a choice, cause ya may be the one I choose to take Jacky boy's place as leader, undahstand?"

Race nodded, he knew better than to argue with Spot. The only people who did that and lived to tell the tale were Jack and Floaty. _Especially Floats, Spot may not want us to know but he loves her. It's obvious she ain't just a girl of da week. He stares at her like she's some kinda rare diamond or somethin'._

"If you were leader and a fight broke out between two newsies, what would ya do?" Spot crossed his arms and waited for an answer.

Race took a moment to respond, "I'd have me and some newsies pull dem apart, and have dem tell us what started the fight."

"And if they won't, and they try to soak you instead?"

"I use Floaty's trick, I throw a bucket of water at 'um. It's effective."

To his surprise, Spot laughed, "Yeah, it is. Awright, good answer." He was back to the 'all business' Spot once again. "If someone threatened one of your newsies lives, would ya do?"

"Have other newsies remain wid the newsie in trouble and start lookin' for the person who wanted to kill dem. If I couldn't find someone, I'd go to..." He paused; the bulls could care less what happened to street children, "You and see if we could pull together some money to hire some kinda detective or somethin'."

Spot nodded, "And if Pulitzah threatened to throw da other newsies in jail?"

"I'd still say no. Dere's no way he could catch all of us. Even at da rally some of us got away."

"Dere's a lot of responsibility in bein' a leader. Think ya could do it?"

"Could I? Yeah. Do I want to? No," Race shrugged.

"Honesty is another good quality a leadah has. One more question," he paused, "Why was Floaty cryin'?"

"She told me about Lily…." Race shifted uncomfortably, "And we found a picture of her holdin' Lily in Jack's tin. It brought back memories."

Spot nodded, "T'anks Race."

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Two hours later, Spot sat in the other bunkroom cuddled up to Floaty. He didn't know which newsie to choose as the new leader. Each had good and strong qualities, but some just weren't ready for a leadership. And none of the newsies would ever outshine the leader Jack used to be.

"I don't know who ta choose, Floats. I really don't."

Floaty looked up at him with a slight frown, "Well, which newsies do you think are the strongest and most capable of having a leadership role?"

Spot sighed, "A few of dem."

"Well, give me the names. We can narrow down the 'leaders' from 'non-leaders.' From there, we can focus on the potential leaders' problem solving skills, people skills, and leadership skills. We'll find a new leader that way, it won't be easy…."

"Choosin' a new leader, one dat could be just as good as the old one, nevah is easy….Specially not in dis case." He frowned and thought for a long moment. "I'd say da potential leaders are Racetrack, Jake, Mush, and Blink."

Floaty nodded, "Good choices. Race is smart, he's able to recognize when people are lying and he has a way of getting through to them when no one else can. Jake is a bit domineering and sometimes intimidates people when he doesn't mean too, but he's a good person. Mush is strong and he thinks with his heart and mind; the only problem is he would have to stop worrying about making his friends angry. Blink is a people-person, and like Mush, he's very caring; but when his temper gets in the way it tends to blind his thinking."

Spot crossed his arms, "So den, it would either be Racetrack or Mush. Mush can toughen up. Blink or Jake could be da new second in command to da leader, and Jake could be the third in command."

Floaty nodded, "So now it's between Race and Mush. It's a difficult choice, both have good qualities they can bring to the table."

Spot sighed, "Yeah, or what we can do is have one be leader for a month, then da other lead for a month. After the first month is ovah we see what da newsies think. Same thing after da second month. We can make our choice by what da others say." He glanced at Floaty and a puzzled expression crossed his face, "What? Why are ya starin' at me like dat?"

Floaty beamed, "Because, Spot, you said _we_, not _me_. So I get to help you run your kingdom?"

Spot laughed, "Well, ya are da Queen of Brooklyn now, and Kings and Queens rule together, don't dey?"

"Yes, they do." Floaty smiled. Spot stared at her for a long moment; she was so beautiful. Like a red headed fairy that danced in the fairy rings back in Ireland. Unlike a lot of other pretty girls he had fallen for, she had brains and a loving heart. She wasn't self centered and never asked anything from him. She wasn't out to be known as 'Spot's girl' and she didn't want fame or glory.

"Ya know, da best thing Jack ever did was bring ya to the docks dat day." Pausing he wrapped his arms around her, "I want you ta know dat yer the only girl who has ever had Spot Conlon say to dem, 'I love you' and mean it."

"Really? That's an honor then, your majesty, because I love you too. The only other person to ever hear that was Jack and my father, maybe my mother too, but I'm not sure."

Spot paused as he hugged her, his hand crept under her blouse, "Do ya still love him?"

"I….I did as a brother….I still think of him as a brother…..Just one I'm very angry with at the moment." She gasped when his hand reached the side of her chest. Spot smirked at her reaction and pulled her into a long and passionate kiss.

In the other bunkroom, the newsies were playing a round of poker before returning to selling papes. Halfway through their game they began hearing loud moans and something hitting the side of the wall.

Racetrack Higgins smirked at Blink, Mush, and Skittery. "Pay up – you all owe me five cents. I said dat was goin' to happen sooner than later. Dose two are gettin' ready to plan a life together."

Blink shook his head, "I would have thought Floaty woulda waited until after she was married. Let's just hope dey truly love one another." He handed Race a few pennies and put down his cards, "I'm leavin' until they're through in there, I don't wanna hear that." He stood up and walked out of the room, his face was beet red.

"She must truly love him," Mush replied as he tossed five pennies in Race's direction.

"Conlon always gets what he wants," Skittery grunted as he tossed a few coins in Race's direction.

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Jack sat down between Lily and Floaty's father's grave and sighed. He put the newspapers he bought that morning down in the grass. He looked over at Lily's headstone: Lily McGongle-Kelly August 5, 1897 – September 4, 1897, "Farewell for a while, I'm going away; but I'll be back, though I go 10,000 miles." Jack traced his fingers on the etched letters in the stone, his heart felt like it was breaking.

"I was stupid, Lily, real stupid." He murmured, "When I accepted Pulitzah's deal I did it to protect me friends….I didn't know dat Pulitzer was lyin'….Though I should have, your mother warned me." He paused, "I probably lost all me friends and her too….I'm so sorry for what I called ya, kiddo. I don't know if ya forgive me, but I do know yer mother is gonna be mad at me for a long time….And she ain't alone. I'm mad at me too."

"Who ye talkin' too, lad?"

Jack stood and turned, a tall man stood behind him; he was leaning on a rake. He had long hair for a man – it ended at the base of his neck; it was red and curly. The man's face reminded Jack of a leprechaun; a leprechaun with freckles. He wore an old button down shirt, brown trousers and boots, and the brown newsie cap Floaty always wore. _Why should he care?_

"My kid," Jack shrugged, "Her name was Lily."

"Ah, yer the wee one's father. I take extra care of her grave, I do. So sad the wee one passed after only a month," he shook his head, "This cemetery of full of babes, I tell ye, lad. "Tis such a sad sight to see. I'm glad me daughter survived her infant years; I don't know what I would 'ave done without her by me side." He walked over to Jack, "I see the babe's mother out here often; she always leaves lilies and forget-me-nots. She leaves forget-me-nots another grave too, her father's I believe." The man gave a small smile, "I'm sure the person she gives those flowers too appreciates it, he does."

"Yeah," Jack smirked, "Dat's Floaty. She always visits Lily's grave each week, and every month she brings new flowers." He frowned; _Floats may never speak to me again after what I said last night._

"Ye and her have a fight?"

"It was me dumb fault, I called Lily our 'dead kid' I was angry and in a bind….Still, it ain't an excuse."

The man nodded in agreement, "We say things we do no' mean when we are angry. I've done the same meself, I'm lucky me daughter has always forgiven me."

Jack paused, "Sounds like she's a good person."

"Aye, tha' she is. Tha' she is. She worked for Mr. Pulitzer for a few years, now she's between jobs. 'Tis funny how time passes….Though yer gone it keeps goin'….Never stoppin'. No, Father Time stops for no 'un I suppose. When me girl was real little she stood in the spot where yer standing now, she was chasin' a butterfly and she ran onto a grave over there," he pointed to an old grave marker, the letters were so old they had almost faded away. "I told her never to step on a person's grave, 'tis the same thing as walkin' on a person when they are sleepin'."

Jack nodded and paused as a realization seemed to slap him in the face. _Wait a minute, dat's the same story Floats told me when we first started courtin'. Her father was dis cemetery's undertaker, and he cared for the graveyard…._

"Hey, what did you say yer name was?" Jack turned and to his surprise he was the only one there. His heart pounding, he turned in a complete circle, and everywhere he looked there was no one to be seen. Finally, he looked down and realized he was standing on someone's grave. When he looked at the headstone his heart almost plunged into his stomach, Patrick McGongle. Forcing himself to breathe Jack put his hands on the top of his head, his heart pounding wildly. He had just spoken to Floaty's father's ghost….And the ghost had helped him.

Bending down, Jack grabbed his papers and ran back towards Manhattan, his feet felt like they were on fire. He needed to make things right; he was almost back to the lodging house an hour later when he heard Sarah Jacobs screaming for help from an alley way. Looking over, he dropped his papers and ignored the Delanceys' warning from that morning: _Do anythin' to try to stop us from soakin' Davey, and yer goin' straight back to the refuge!_ He no longer cared about Pulitzer and his thugs – all he cared about was saving David, getting his friends back, and ending this strike…..And apologizing to Floaty.

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Floaty stood beside Spot in the lobby of the lodging house. The Manhattan newsies had all crowded around, all ready to hear who the new leader would be. Spot glanced at her and tapped his cane on the floor, "Hey!" He shouted, "You all wanna keep yappin' or find out whose da new leader?"

The newsies fell silent moments later. They wanted to know who the new leader would be. Floaty shifted, whoever the new leader was would do a good job, but no one would be as good of a leader as Jack….Or at least as good of a leader as Jack had once been.

Spot opened his mouth, the name of the leader on his lips when the lodging house doors opened. "What da hell?"

Floaty turned and her eyes widened, David walked in limping, a hand on his stomach.

"David!" She ran over to him and wrapped an arm under her friend's shoulder, "What happened?"

He looked up at her, "Jack's back." And at that very moment, Jack 'Cowboy' Kelly entered the lodging house. His fancy new clothes were untucked and messy. For a long minute the entire lodging house went silent.

Jack cracked a small smile, "Heya fellas, I'm back!"


	14. The Strike Continues & TheCrowned Queen

_**Disclaimer: I do not own Newsies or any of its characters, they belong to Disney. Floaty belongs to DT; Joshua, Wolf and Chancy belong to me.**_

_**(A/N: Hi everyone! Thank you all so much for great reviews! :-) Please check out Firefly Conlon's "Out of a Hat." It's the best newsie fanfiction I've read so far. Here is the next chapter.)**_

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The Lodging House fell silent as Jack walked into the lobby; his hands were shoved in his pockets, he held his head high, but Floaty could see the nervousness shining in his eyes. Floaty glanced beside her, Spot was staring at Jack and following his every move; he looked like he was struggling to control his temper. Floaty wasn't happy with Jack either, but she was happy to see him back. She glanced over at the door and watched as Sarah and Les entered; sent a small smile toward her friend.

"Jacky-boy," Spot said calmly, "Ya here to stay or here to wave money in our faces?"

Jack tensed, "I'm here ta stay, and I ain't leavin' again." He looked over at Floaty, "I shoulda listened to you and Davey….'specially you, Floats. Ya worked for ole Joe for years; you knew what I got meself into…and it wasn't paradise eidda."

Floaty paused for a long moment. Part of her wanted to slap Jack upside the head and shout, 'Ya think?' Another part of her wanted to shove him out the lodging house and wished he'd never returned, not after what he said about Lily. But he was still her friend, and her child's father, and he was seeking forgiveness. _I'm Brooklyn's Queen now; I have to set a good example. If Spot and I can't forgive him….Whose to say most of the others will?_

"It's alright Jack, we all make mistakes. I made one when I agreed to work for him too," she shrugged, "I'm glad your back." She forced herself to smile.

Jack seemed uncomfortable, "Floats….I'm sorry….For what I said about Lily. It was wrong, and she didn't deserve dat."

"You're right, she didn't." She almost snapped, "What you said was very painful….And I just want to know….Do you really feel that way?" That had been her question since the previous night. Did he really see Lily as their 'dead kid' or was he just angry?

"I didn't mean it, I was angry…..And when yer angry ya tend to say things ya don't mean…." He paused and looked like he wanted to say something else, but instead turned his gaze towards Spot. Jack was tense and he knew all the newsies' eyes were on him, and Spot's eyes seemed to burn through him.

"Ok Jacky-boy, ya made the first step ya apologized. Whose ta say when Pulitzer waves money in front of yer face again, or tickets to Santa Fe, dat you won't go back to work for him?" He gave Jack the glare that had almost every newsie shaking in their boots. Floaty had nicknamed Spot's chilly glare and demeanor, 'the cold shoulder.'

"I ain't leavin' again, no matter what Joe waves in front of me face. I'm here to stay, David and….And someone else helped me ta realize dat money ain't everything….And everythin' has its right time and place. I'll go to da west on me own time, not on Joe's."

Spot stared at Jack and for a moment Floaty was almost convinced that the Newsie King was going to tell Cowboy to take a hike. A smirk crossed Spot's face as he spat into his hand and held it out to Jack. Smiling, Jack spat into his own hand and the two shook one another's hand. Spot slapped Cowboy's back, "Welcome back Jacky-boy, 'bout time ya grew da other half of your brain!"

Jack laughed, "Yeah, tell me about it. Floats, remember you were tellin' me about dat old printing press in da distribution center's basement? I found it, ink, and plenty of paper. I say we put out our own pape and let da world know just who Joe and all dese other hoity-toitys really are."

"I couldn't have said it better myself. I can tell you all you need to know about how he treats his employees, and how some of them helped to hide information from Governor Roosevelt when he visited. I can also tell you what he says about the newsies, and I remember many of his telephone conversations."

"Great!"

"Stop dere, Jacky boy." Spot exclaimed as he wrapped his arm around Floaty's waist and pulled her close to himself. "I'm all for da paper, but how do you know that ya won't get caught?"

"I'm gonna take da others along for guards, if deys see anyone they'll whistle."

Spot looked disgusted, "Dat's your great plan? Da guards see someone and they whistle? Jack, dat's pathetic! I'm sendin' over some of me boys from Brooklyn, if da Delanceys or any other goons should come by, me newsies will soak 'em." He turned towards Racetrack and David, "You two, up here now."

Race and David exchanged nervous glances and both stepped forward (or in David's case, limped forward).

"Race, ya were about to be new leader; David yer smart and make a good second in command. The two of you are gonna help Jack become a better leader. Any time he looks ready to bolt or give up again, ya come and get me and I'll take care of him. Undahstand?"

The two nodded. Spot turned towards Jack, "After what ya did, I don't fully trust ya not to bolt again, Jacky-boy. Me and my little boids are going to be keepin' a close eye on you. Don't run again, Cowboy; like I told Floaty a few days ago, don't run from your problems, run _towards_ da solutions. It's easier dan ya think." He took Floaty's hand, "We're goin' back to Brooklyn, when da pape is ready to be passed around, ya let me know. I'll send a few of me newsies over to help ya."

"You're not gonna hand dem out?" Jack's eyes widened, "Ya gave your ok to this strike –"

"I gave da OK to the strike you started and ran from. Dis is a new strike, a stronger one; Manhattan started it, Manhattan finishes it. Me newsies will help spread the word, and whatever happens, happens. Ya undahstand?"

"Spot –"

"Don't argue wid me, Jack. Ya know what will happen if ya do," Spot said in a low tone of voice, his eyes narrowed.

"You'll kick me outta Manhattan and tell da others not to take me in," Jack suddenly smirked, "I wouldn't expect any less from ya, your highn-ass."

Spot glared at Cowboy then gave a quick smirk that only Jack and Floaty noticed, "Watch it, Cowboy, yer on thin ice." He took Floaty's hand and glanced at David and Racetrack, "Ya watch him and help him."

"We'll see you guys later," Floaty exclaimed with a small smile, "Jack, you'll do great. Just…Start believing in yourself and you can do anything you set your mind too."

Jack nodded, "T'anks, Floats."

_**

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Chancy darted in front of a slow moving horse and carriage as she headed towards the alleyway across from The Traveler's Inn. Her heart pounded in excitement and it took all her self control to keep from smiling. Morris had said to meet her immediately – he had a life-changing decision to discuss with her. _Life changing, maybe he's going to propose. Well then, won't Spot Conlon be interested in learning this. As soon as I'm engaged to Morris, Spot will come crawling back to me._

Holding her head high and smoothing the wrinkles in her gray vest and baby blue shirt, she walked into the alleyway. To her surprise Oscar and Morris both stood there; Oscar stood against the left hand wall smoking a cigarette while Morris polished his brass knuckles. Chancy's stomach lurched. What was going on? This was not a romantic scene!

"Morris? Ya said you wanted to see me?"

The older Delancey looked up and a cold smile crossed his lips, "Heya Chancy. Do ya remember when I asked ya out after I dumped Agatha?"

Chancy swallowed, he had asked her out after learning she was Spot's second-in-command…..Now she was the third-in-command….And a third in command knew pretty much what the other newsies knew. They knew nothing about the leaders' plans. Her heart skipped a beat and she felt as if her heart had been ripped out yet again by another arrogant man. _He's been using me this entire time!_

"Ya know, at first Oscar an' me thought ya were no use to us. But den I realized somethin'," Morris stepped forward, "I realized I like ya…." He weaved a small yellow flower into her hair above her ear. "You and me….We make a good team. I hate the newsies; ya hate Spot for ignorin' ya."

Chancy looked up at him, "So you're using me."

Morris shrugged, "In a way, but all couples use one anudda at one point in their relationship."

Chancy snarled, "No….They don't. Go to Hell, Morris! I'm leaving." She was almost to the mouth of the alley when Morris's hand gripped her wrist. "Let go of me!"

"No," the Delancey sneered as Oscar chuckled.

"We got a deal for ya, Sunshine," the younger Delancey exclaimed. "We know ya lost your position as second in command, and Spot's replaced ya with another girl….He even had da nerve to crown her Queen of New York."

Chancy tensed, Floaty – the bimbo she was – didn't deserve that title! She spent most of her life at Pulitzer's beck and call. What did Spot see in a mindless messenger like her? She was a danger to him and to the newsies, for all Chancy knew, Floaty could be spying on the newsies for Pulitzer. _She probably talked Cowboy into sellin' us out and joinin' Pulitzer._

"Yeah, we can see how much ya hate Floaty," Oscar gave a cruel smirk. "So we're here to offer ya a deal: I want to talk to Floaty alone, and maybe even take her off yer hands. However, we can't do dat with Conlon hanging around. You keep him distracted, Floaty will be gone, and Spot will be all yers."

Chancy's eyes widened, this was too good to be true! Her heart fluttered with hope. She had fallen in love with Spot when she first came to Brooklyn three years ago. Since the day he first smirked and winked at her, she knew he was the one for her. Spot Conlon was her soul mate, and getting this bimbo out of the way would help the Newsie King to realize he had chosen the wrong Queen, and the right one had been in front of his eyes for years.

"What do you want me to do?"

Morris slipped on his brass knuckles, "Oh, don'cha worry, Chancy. All ya gotta do is make sure Spot's focused on you."

Chancy backed away, "Morris, you don't believe in hitting women!" Terror coursed through her as she backed away from the man she had once trusted. A cruel smile crossed Morris's lips and his eyes glinted with something between hate and amusement. _He's going to kill me!_ Turning, she darted towards the mouth of the alley way but one of the Delanceys grabbed her pony tail and pulled her back. She turned just in time to see Morris's shiny brass knuckles heading for her stomach; then stars danced in front of her eyes. Still, Morris didn't stop; he continued soaking her. Within seconds, Chancy collapsed to her knees and fell onto her side; she curled up into a small ball.

"Stop, stop! Please stop!" She sobbed, "Please….Please…."

"Shaddup!" Oscar shouted and Chancy felt his shoe kick her back. She screamed in pain.

_**

* * *

**_

Spot and Floaty had almost returned to the Lodging House when they heard the bloodcurdling scream from a nearby alleyway. Spot grabbed Floaty's arm and stopped in mid-step, his eyes scanned the road.

Floaty had heard the scream as well and was studying the area around them. The shriek had come from somewhere close. However, none of the people she could see looked panicked or afraid. A woman selling flowers in a basket nodded to her; while a business man chewing on a donut passed; children ran by giggling amongst themselves. Across the street Floaty noticed someone collapse to their knees.

"Spot, there!" She pointed.

Spot looked towards the alleyway in time to see a gray newsie cap roll out of the alley and land in the street before it was smashed by a passing horse and carriage. His stomach twisted, he knew that cap from anywhere, it was Chancy's. He muttered a curse under his breath.

"Stay here!"

"Spot, let me help you! Or let me get another newsie!" She shouted, however the newsie king had run towards the alleyway without so much of a glance back at her. _This is where being Queen comes in, I have to make a decision I think is best._ She darted towards the end of the street and nearly ran into Wolf, a burly half American Indian boy with pale skin and long black hair.

"Woah, Floaty! What's da rush?" His dark brown eyes narrowed as his eyebrows rose.

"Wolf! Someone's being soaked and Spot needs your help!"

Wolf nodded and dropped his papers, "Lead da way!"

Floaty ran towards the alleyway and nearly reached Spot when a fist collided with the side of her head. For a long minute she saw stars, she took a deep breath and looked up at the face of her attacker. Almost immediately she became dizzy, Oscar stood in front of her reaching for her wrist. She shoved him back.

"Spot! I'm here!" Wolf shouted as he ran past Floaty and came to the aid of the Brooklyn leader. Spot's fingers were entwined with Morris's, the two wrestled and pushed one another against opposite walls before they fell to the ground.

"Ya shoulda never touched her, Delancey! Dat's me newsie you soaked!" Rage coursed through Spot. He wasn't happy with Chancy he would never want any harm to come to her. She was still his newsie and his friend. Morris growled and kneed Spot in the stomach; pain traveled through Spot and caused him to grunt. He gritted his teeth as Morris flipped them over. He pulled a hand away from Spot and shoved his lower arm over the newsboy leader's throat in an attempt to block his air passage.

Spot gasped and clawed at Morris's arm, he tried to ram his knee into the older boy but was having little luck. As he glanced towards Wolf his vision became blurry. The other newsboy was currently attempting to keep Oscar's switchblade away from his face. Spot continued to fight and struggle against his attacker; he had fought against Morris before and won. However, the older Delancey had learned a new and deadly fighting method, one that would kill any opponent. His vision became to close in on him and he felt as if he were seeing the world through a straw. Then, suddenly, Morris was off of him and holding his jaw and stomach.

Spot wheezed and gasped as air poured into his lungs. As he recovered he glanced over to find Floaty swinging an old piece of driftwood at Morris. His attention was turned away by Wolf's sudden shout. Spot looked over and saw his newsboy kneeling on the ground with his hands over his groin. Wolf's teeth were gritted in pain and he never had a chance to defend himself from Oscar. The younger Delancey hit him upside the head and Spot watched as the burly newsboy collapsed into an unconscious heap.

"Get out of here you two, I'm warning you…." Floaty growled in a threat as she attempted to keep her distance from the two brothers. Spot began to sat up and watched as the two Delanceys circled her like hungry vultures waiting for a meal. He struggled onto his feet, and as soon as he stood the alleyway began spinning around him. He felt his stomach lurch and struggled to keep his lunch down.

"Floaty….Run…." he gasped. _They're after me goil! Either Pulitzah wants her back or Oscar still wants her!_

"I'm not going anywhere Spot!" Floaty shouted at him. Her heart raced and adrenaline coursed through her, giving her the strength she needed. _Two against one, there's no way….But there's always a way!_ She thought about how her uncle's men had almost caught her this way two years ago. She had stopped using brawn and turned to brain.

"Alright Oscar, I give up." She tossed the piece of driftwood onto the cobblestone street and held her hands up.

"No!" Spot wheezed and slowly stood.

Oscar smirked at her, "I knew you'd see it me way, Floaty." He held out his hand to her, expecting her to take it.

"I'd take your hand, but I'd upset Morris."

Oscar snorted, "Don't be ridiculous!"

"I'm not," she retorted as she stepped protectively in front of Spot, who was now kneeling between Chancy and Wolf's unconscious forms. She continued, "Morris asked me to marry him before I was put into the refuge. He said you're not good enough for me and that he'd kill you to give me a good life. I don't want to upset him, if I do I may get you hurt…Or…Killed."

"_What?_" Oscar shouted and turned towards his brother, "You no good lousy…"

Morris held up his hands, eyes wide, "I didn't do or say dat! I nevah see her unless she's around you or deliverin' me paycheck!" He glared at her and then returned his gaze to Oscar, "C'mon Oscah! I'm your brother, I'd never steal her from ya!"

Oscar paused, "He's right."

By the time Oscar had realized he'd been duped, Floaty had managed to grab hold of the piece of driftwood and slam it against the back of his head. She turned, Morris gaped at her and didn't realize what she was about to do until it was too late. She slammed the wood between his legs, which caused him to howl in pain and collapse to his knees. She kicked him in the back causing him to fall face first onto the street.

"Come on Spot," she exclaimed as she helped him onto his feet. "We need to hurry, they won't be down there for very long!"

"No kiddin' where did ya learn to do that?" Spot asked in amazed, his throat was sore and his voice was hoarse. He knelt down and picked Chancy up then stumbled out of the alleyway. Floaty wrapped her arm around Wolf's shoulder, thankfully was halfway conscious and able to stand up and limp out of the alleyway.

"Damn you Conlon!" Morris shouted as he helped his brother up. Oscar's teeth were gritted.

"When I get hold of Floaty, I'm gonna kill her!" Oscar shouted as he stumbled over a crate.

Spot glanced behind him as the two Delanceys stumbled forward, they needed a quick escape! He glanced over at Floaty; her right eye was swollen and would become a shiner. He curled his fist, one day soon he and his newsies would surround the Delanceys and he would soak the two brothers for Chancy, Floaty, himself and Wolf.

"Dakota! Your highness, need a lift?" The two Clydesdale horses stopped in front of him and Spot had never been so happy to see Joshua before.

"We're in trouble, we need to get back to da lodgin' house!" Spot exclaimed.

"Climb aboard," Joshua replied and eyed the two Delanceys, "You just hurry yourselves up, I don't want no trouble from those two boys."

"Going as fast as we can," Floaty grunted as she stumbled towards the end of the empty milk cart. Wolf was leaning heavily against her and mumbling something. She turned to her side and pushed the unconscious boy onto the bed of the wagon and helped Spot lift Chancy up beside him. The two newsies climbed aboard and Joshua flicked the reigns.

"Go!" He shouted as the horses took off at a walk, then a gallop and a run. Halfway back to the Brooklyn lodging house, he pulled back the reigns and slowed the horses into a walk. He turned to the two conscious newsies, "Now Spot, I don't mind helping you. But when trouble is involved, I ask you to leave me out of it."

Spot nodded, "Sorry, Joshua."

The older man shook his head, "Spot, you have no reason to be sorry this time. I was in the right place and the right time and it was my choice to offer you help. What happened?"

"We don't know. Floats and I were on our way back from Manhattan when we heard Chancy scream. By da time I got there, the Delanceys had soaked her….I was fightin' Morris and Oscar was tryin' to kick me. Dat's when Floats arrived with Wolf; Oscar managed to knock Wolf out a few minutes later. It was Floaty who saved me life."

Floaty blushed and looked over at Spot, "You're being over-dramatic."

"No Floats, I ain't. How did ya do dat?"

"Oscar expected me to fight them, instead for a minute I turned the tables around so the brothers were fighting each other. It was their own stupidity that got them clubbed by driftwood." She shrugged. Floaty wasn't sure why Spot thought she had fought so hard, when really she hadn't done much but use a mind game against the brothers.

"Mind over matter," Joshua suddenly exclaimed with a nod. "You did good, Floaty. You did good."

"You remembered my name," she smiled.

"O'course I did," he beamed, "I couldn't forget the name of da only girl whose ever held Spot Conlon's heart. Now, your majesty's, we're back at your lodging house. Do you need help getting them inside?"

"Nah," Spot replied as his newsies began running from the lodging house and towards the cart.

"Thank you anyway, though. We really owe you," Floaty smiled as she climbed down from the cart followed by Spot. The newsies climbed atop the milk cart and carefully carried Chancy and Wolf inside the lodging house.

Joshua smiled, "This time, I'll hold you to that. Have a good evening," he waved and gently pulled on the reigns. The horses began forward and after a long minute, Joshua's milk cart disappeared around the corner of Brooklyn's Harbor and King Streets.

Spot put his arm around Floaty, "We need to find out why Chancy was in dat alley way meetin' with both da Delanceys."

"We already know she's dating Morris, and wherever Morris goes Oscar is sure to follow."

"True," Spot nodded, "But we gotta be sure. Lately, Chancy's been jealous and angry; a jealous and angry woman is trouble. We gotta make sure she wasn't plannin' nothin' against Jacky-boy and his newsies."

Floaty nodded in agreement, "I'll help to clean her up and patch up any cuts she has."

"Yeah, after she's clean and awake, we'll talk to her and find out what happened."

"How will we tell when she's lying?"

Spot paused, "I'll teach ya how to tell when people are lyin', and dat's something every Queen should know. I will tell ya dis, when Chancy's lyin' she blinks a lot."

Floaty nodded as she stepped into the lodging house, to her surprise the newsies began taking off their caps. She jumped almost ten feet high, had someone passed away? She turned and looked at Spot, surprised to see he had seemingly vanished into thin air.

"Guys, what's going on?" Her eyes were wide, "Please tell me someone didn't die."

"No one died Floats," Spot chuckled as he returned with a denim newsboy cap in hand. "Da newsies are takin' off their caps to say dey accept ya as their queen. Dat's quite an honor you know." He reached for her hat.

Floaty paused, "I can keep my cap? It was my father's."

Spot nodded; Floaty reluctantly took off her hat. She stared at it for a long moment; she had worn it since the day her father passed. But her father would want her to move forward with her life and embrace happiness; he wouldn't want her to dwell on past events that could never be changed. After a long minute, she put her old cap into her skirt pocket and Spot 'crowned' her the Queen of New York.


	15. The Strike is Won & Spot's Brother

_**Disclaimer: I do not own Newsies or any of its characters, they belong to Disney. Floaty, Trench, and Katrina belong to DT. Emily Delancey belongs to me (especially since I gave her my first name, LOL) so does Chancy AKA Vixen, and Vampire.**_

_**(A/N: Hi everyone, thank you all so much for the awesome reviews and all the help you've given me while I wrote this story. :-) You all are awesome! Special thanks to: Leah, Firefly Conlon, BrennaBerr, and Silvershoes17. Also, I did change a few things so this prologue to "tears from the moon" doesn't quite exactly match up with DimensionalTraveller's time line. I did this because this last chapter is the prequel to my next story. The new story focuses mainly on Spot and Floaty, but it introduces my main character, Emily Delancey.)  
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Floaty lightly tugged on the needle and drew it upwards as she tightened the thread; Chancy's blouse was almost fixed. She had finished patching the newsgirl's trousers hours ago; there were only two small rips left to fix. She glanced up at the unconscious newsgirl, it had been almost four hours since she was crowned Queen of Brooklyn. Her new title still felt odd; she had gone from, 'Floaty, Pulitzer's messenger, to 'Floaty, Queen of New York'. She shifted in her seat. The title seemed too glamorous and she wasn't sure how to react to it.

"Great….When I thought my day couldn't get any worse….It becomes a catastrophe," Chancy groaned from the bed. Floaty looked up in surprise. Chancy glared at her, "I've been awake for two minutes….Get your hands off me shirt, I can fix it myself."

"I still don't understand where your British accent went….I liked Clarisse better than I like Chancy," Floaty muttered before she used her teeth to bite off the thread at the end of patched rip. She trailed her thumb over the light blue thread; her father had taught her how to sew when she was only five.

Chancy snorted, "I hate England. It's where me mother lives, me father used to live in Scotland. He was a Laird and she was his lady…At least that's what she always said. Me father, Angus, was killed in a battle the week after I was born."

"I'm so sorry. What….happened to your mother?"

"Nosy ain't ya? If ya really want to know, me mother remarried an English British man when I was eight. I hated him, he was worse than two week old garbage. But me mother loved him…" She paused and took a moment to stare at the cloth bandages wrapped around her arms. She continued a minute later, "They had a son together and on me tenth birthday I heard me parents both agree that I needed to be sent to a fact'ry, I was no use to them." Her eyes began to glaze with unshed tears, "No use to anyone they said. So I took of meself, as I always do, and packed some clothin' and stowed away on one of the merchant ships heading to America – where the streets are paved of gold and everyone has a chance to get rich." She snorted, "Yeah, right."

Chancy continued, "A few months later, I stepped off the boat and onto the Brooklyn Docks. I stayed with the Manhattan newsies for a few years, then with Harlem, Queens, China Town….Then, three years ago I came to Brooklyn and met Spot. I knew right then: I'm going to marry him…..And for a while we got really close to becoming more than leader and second-in-command." For a minute she looked so happy then her smile turned into a frown, "And then….You came along and ruined everything. You shattered my hopes…my dreams…you stole the man I loved. Now, you sit here and stole the title that should belong to me."

_**

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**_

Spot watched as Floaty came out of his room, she was shaking and her cheeks were flushed. She looked angry enough to hit the wall. _What the hell happened in there?_ "Floats?" He asked softly.

She looked up, "Hey….I talked to Chancy…She just woke up a few minutes ago."

He stopped beside her, "What'd she say?"

"She gave me her life story, accused me of being a boyfriend-stealer, and then told me the reason why she was in that alleyway."

Spot leaned forward.

"Oscar and Morris made her a deal….If she distracted you, they'd take me away from the Lodging House and I'd never be seen again." She squared her jaw, "If she thinks I'm scared off that easily, she's wrong. Maybe a few years ago I would have run, but not now. I figure if I could survive Trench and Pulitzer, then I can survive anythings."

Spot smirked with pride, "Dat's me girl."

_**

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**_

Chancy heard the entire conversation from her bunk. Anger surged through her causing her to clench her fists. She couldn't understand how Floaty, the timid messenger girl who never dared to cross authority, had transformed into a tough Brooklyn newsgirl who now _seemed_ to defy authority. Chancy knew the former messenger would probably never return to working for Pulitzer. After twenty minutes the door opened.

Spot was entering the room; his expression told her he was angry.

"Heya, Spot."

"Don't 'heya, Spot' me, Chancy. I know why you were in dat alley way….And I know somethin' else you never wanted me to find out."

"Oh? And that would be?"

"Dat your first newsie name was Vixen. You were Vampire's first goil."

Chancy tensed; she had been spent three years hiding that secret. She had left out that part of her history when she spoke to Floaty, no one could know her true identity, no one.

"I was."

Spot turned the chair in the corner of the room around so the back was facing Chancy. He swung one leg over the seat and sat down; he crossed his arms on the top of the chair and stared at her. The few minutes he silently glared at her felt more like eons; he was trying to make her uncomfortable. She shifted and had to admit he was doing a good job.

"How did yer real identity get past me all dese years?"

"I'm good at hiding," she retorted and forced herself to sit up. It hurt to sit up, the bruises on her back, legs, and bum seemed to pound with pain. Dizziness almost made her sick and her headache had returned. She ignored the pain and focused on the Brooklyn leader. "I hate and fear Vampire, Spot, you have to believe me."

"I don't believe ya. If ya hate him and are so afraid of him, den why did ya go to the rally?"

Chancy's mouth went dry. "To support the strike."

"You didn't support da strike from day one."

Chancy paused and swallowed, "Fine….You found out who I really am, but it took you three years. _Three years_, Spot Conlon. Makes you pretty stupid don't it?"

Spot sneered at her, "Watch what you say around me, _Vixen_. I'm far from stupid, sometimes a person can't see somethin' bad until its shoved in deys face. What are ya doin' here, Vixen?"

Chancy, actually Vixen, glared at him. "Before Vampire became leader two years ago, the original Harlem leader sent me to Brooklyn as one of his little birds. When Vampire became leader I had to report whatever I learned to him and we fell in love. The entire 'Oh Spot I love you so!' Was a pretty convincing act," she raised an eyebrow and gave an arrogant smirk. "You fell for it too, and after only a year of being here I was your second-in-command. Vampire's goal was for me to be Queen."

"Not happenin' and it never would have happened either." He stood and gave a smirk of his own. "I made you me second-in-command to keep an eye on you. I always thought you were just a trouble maker, looks like I was right. Tomorrow, you're goin' back to Harlem."

Vixen tensed, "You'll be sorry, Conlon!"

"Yeah, yeah, deys all say dat." He walked out of the room and slammed the door shut behind him. Vixen heard him tell two newsies to guard the door. _If Spot's smart he'll have the guards rotate every two hours. A tired guard is easy fooled….Maybe, just maybe I can escape…._

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The next two days went by as a blur for Floaty. She had told Jack and Denton everything she knew about Pulitzer, his friends, and the telephone conversations she overheard. The next morning the Manhattan newsies had passed out all their papes. The day afterwards, hundreds of working children crowded into Newspaper Square – the strike was about to become a success.

Floaty had to push her way through a wall of human beings, never in her life had she seen so many people crowded into such a small area. She noticed Laurie was standing on the sidewalk near the baker's shop with Victoria in her arms. She attempted to wave to her friends, but there were too many people waving signs, newspapers, and paper signs with the words 'Strike,' 'Unfair', and many other words scrawled across them.

"Spot!" She shouted, they had gotten separated when Brooklyn mingled into the crowd.

"Over here, Floats!" He shouted, she turned and tried to find him. A hand suddenly grabbed hers and she found herself standing beside him. "Miss me?" He beamed, his eyes twinkling.

"You're proud of Jack!"

"Damned straight!" He smiled, "Jacky-boy came through, he went into the World building wid Davey a few minutes ago…." He was interrupted by Sykes pushing his way through the crowd and shouting for Emmalyn. "Floats, he's callin' for you!"

Floaty blushed, she wasn't used to people calling her by her first name any longer. It almost seemed odd. _The world I used to live in didn't allow nicknames; the world I live in now almost depends on them._ She and Spot began pushing their way through the crowd until they found Sykes.

"Emmalyn, Jack's almost got Pulitzer ready to lower the prices of newspapers….But, he won't do it until he meets the person who helped get the strike started!"

"Jack and David got the strike started, not me!" She shouted at the top of her lungs, wishing the shouting would quiet down a little. Instead it became even louder when the two glass doors of Pulitzer's office swung open. Pulitzer stood above them shouting something and gesturing for them to leave. But no one moved and they would not leave until their voices were heard.

"Jacky Boy and David started da strike in Manhattan….But it didn't become a strike Floats, until you got me to agree to it! Like it or not, ya helped to start da strike. Go on!" Spot shouted and gave her a light push.

"Spot, you too!"

"Nah, I need to stay down here and keep an eye on Les and da others. Go on!" He waved for her to follow Sykes. Sighing, she turned and followed the middle aged man into the World Building. She walked through the doors, something that had once been so normal now seemed so strange to her. She no longer felt as if she were part of the building. _Because I don't belong to Pulitzer anymore….I finally learned I had a voice and I spoke up. That was the best thing I've ever done._ She followed Sykes into the elevator and when she stepped out she was greeted by a familiar sight she almost started to miss….Agatha.

"You just can't keep yourself away, can you?" She scowled.

"Agatha, this is business," Sykes snapped, "This girl can help make this strike to keep going on, and you'll never get that pay raise you so badly desire."

The secretary went silent, but glared at Floaty as she walked past the desk. Sykes opened Pulitzer's office's doors and walked through them with her. In front of her she was greeted by a sight she would never expect to see in a thousand years. Pulitzer stood hunched over with his palms pressed against his ears while Jack yelled at him and David stood in front of his desk with his arms crossed.

"Maybe you should listen to me for a change!" Jack shouted and pointed to himself.

"No, you listen to me!" Pulitzer shouted.

"No, you listen!"

"Shut the window and shut up!"

"Dere's a lotta people out dere and dey ain't just gonna go away! Dey got voices now and they're goin' to be listened too! Puttin' me in jail is _not_ gonna step dem! Dat's the power of da press, Joe!" Jack walked towards the window as Pulitzer sat down and plugged his ears.

Floaty glanced at David and he shrugged with a smirk, "What can I say?" He chuckled, "Jack grew up."

Floaty nodded, "He's already building himself a powerful reputation."

Jack slammed the doors shut and half of the shouts were muffled and the office became quieter.

"Thanks for teachin' me about it," Jack exclaimed as he walked back over to Pulitzer.

"Those kids put out a pretty good paper there, Chief." Sykes nodded and pointed to the newspaper on Pulitzer's desk. Floaty smiled, glad that Sykes's voice was finally being heard as well.

"Who defied me?" Pulitzer shouted after skimming the paper, "Whose press did you use to print this? Whose? _Whose_?"

Floaty tensed as her former employer's face turned beet red with anger.

"Well, we only used da best, Joe. So I just wanted ta say, thanks again." Jack smirked and leaned down. Pulitzer stared at him completely stunned. It was the first time Floaty could ever recall seeing the older man speechless. Jack turned and walked over to Floaty, he led her towards Pulitzer and she began dragging her feet.

"Jack….I don't want to speak to him again."

"Floats, ya have a voice now," he said softly, "Yours is da only one dat hasn't been heard….And he practically owned ya. It's time your voice is heard…." He pulled her into a hug and turned, "Joe, dis here is Floaty, da Newsie Queen of New York."

Pulitzer glared at her, his jaw squaring. "You defied me as well? You defied my wife, who attempted to give you a good life?"  
Floaty stood tall, "Your wife tried to give me a better life, _Joe_. But you went behind her back and paid Snyder to sign those forms….He tore them up and I was going straight back to the refuge.…And no matter what anyone says, you knew that." She paused and let all her emotions surface, "I've worked as your messenger for years, I was loyal to you, and no matter how you treated me I always treated you with respect! You treated me like you treat Mr. Sykes and Jonathan – you intimidated us and never showed us respect. So here's what I'm going to say to you: If you want a message delivered, either do it yourself or pay the messenger boys...And don't you ever use my daughter's name, or her funeral, for one of your headlines again."

"Ya sure dat's all you want to say to him?" Jack whispered in her ear.

Floaty nodded, "I've said all I need to say."

Pulitzer glared at her. "They've corrupted you, Emmalyn, but I can fix that. You can come back to work for me…."

"Mr. Pulitzer, in a way I'll be working for you…." She paused, "I'll be selling newspapers," a smile crossed her face. "Come to think of it, now that I no longer work for you….I can drop the lady act and be who I really am." She turned to Jack, "Great job, Jacky-boy, this is from Brooklyn!" She trapped the taller newsboy in a huge hug and whispered, "I'm so proud of ya, Jack….Thanks for makin' sure my voice was heard."

Jack returned the hug, "Thanks, your highness," he winked. "Lily's voice was heard too, Davey and I made sure of dat earlier." He turned back to Pulitzer who had turned away from them.

"Well, Joe? What will it be?" Jack asked, "We stay here day and night letting our voices be heard….Or you lower da prices of papes and pay us more for da papes we sell."

A few minutes later Jack walked out of the World building and the newsies parted like the red sea for him. All anxiously awaited to hear the news; Floaty walked next to Spot and took his hand.

"Well, what happened?" He asked.

"You'll see," she smirked.

Jack put Les onto his shoulders and shouted, "We beat 'um!"

The next hour was filled with chaos, a celebration, Snyder being arrested and Crutchy, Ten-Pin, and the other children in the refuge were released. Teddy Roosevelt arrived and shook Jack's hand and took him to the train station. The newsies were upset, but the newsboy leader soon returned and thanked the governor for his help and agreed to save more money and go to Santa Fe later. Spot and Floaty returned to Brooklyn in Roosevelt's carriage (something Spot bragged about for months afterwards).

Five months after the strike, Spot proposed but both agreed on a long engagement, they wanted to save money for their own home. Then, on St. Patrick's Day, Floaty gave birth to she and Spot's first baby, Katrina.

* * *

Vixen watched as Oscar leaned over Floaty's still body, his knife in hand. Vampire wanted the Brooklyn Queen dead. He felt that was the only way he could force Spot to snap and start a war with Harlem.

"Hurry up and kill her already!" She hissed, "Spot's going to be up here any minute!"

Oscar's heart pounded as he stared down at the unconscious newsgirl lying in front of him. The back of her head was bleeding, but she was still alive. His fingers gripped the hilt of the knife tighter; he didn't want to kill Floaty. He was still angry with her for turning down his marriage proposal and for soaking him in the alley way that day two years ago.

"If ya want her dead, Vixen, you do it." He growled and tossed the knife onto the floor beside Spot's cane. "I ain't doin' it."

"What do you mean you won't do it? You agreed!"

"I agreed until I grew a brain. Da newsies would soak me, but Trench would kill me." He climbed through the window and out to the fire escape and tipped the brim of his bowler cap, "Good luck to you, Vixen. If ya kill her, you'll need it."

As Oscar was halfway down the fire escape he heard Spot's shout and the voices of several angry newsies. Back inside the lodging house, Spot knelt down onto the floor and pulled Floaty into his arms while Wolf and Knight dragged Vixen in front of him.

Spot glared up at her with a sneer, "Ya wanted a war, Vixen? You got one. You better warn Vampire dat I'm comin' and I'm bringin' hell with me!"

The two newsboys released the Harlem newsgirl, who brushed herself off. "If you think what happened today is bad, then you have another thing coming!" She turned and ran out, when the lodging house's door slammed shut, Floaty's eyes blinked open.

"Spot?" She muttered.

"Floats, I'm right here," he whispered, "Are you ok?"

"Head hurts….Katrina?"

"Katrina's fine," he smiled, "I made sure when I walked in. A doctor's on his way, yer gonna be alright."

"Spot….Oscar….he…."

"Oscar Delancey hit ya? He did this to you?"

Floaty nodded, "I…I think I saw Vixen in the room when he walked in….She was saying something about Vampire getting his revenge."

Spot frowned and pulled her closer to him.

"Spot what was she talking about?" Floaty cuddled closer into him, her heart was still racing and her body shook from head to toe. She had almost died and Oscar and Vixen could have killed Katrina as well and there would have been nothing she could do to stop them. The thought of losing another child terrified her; she lost Lily, she would never lose Katrina. _Never_.

"Floats…" Spot paused, "I need to tell ya somethin'."

"What?"

"Vampire is me younger brother. When….Marti made me da leader of Brooklyn and I had to prove meself to be tough, I crossed the line."

Floaty's eyebrows rose in shock, "Spot…You never…."

"I couldn't. Jacky-boy, Sport, and Wolf are da only other beside you who know."

"So he wants revenge because you never told anyone he's your brother?" Her head felt light and the room was beginning to slowly spin.

"No…" Spot shook his head. "He wants revenge because he thinks I took somethin' of his, when I didn't."

"What did you take?"

"Da love of his life, Emily Delancey. She's da Delancey brother's little sister. Vampire was head over heels for her a few years before I met ya. I kept warnin' him she was trouble, but he wouldn't listen and tried to court her, but she turned him down each time. She fell for me instead, and I didn't want nothin' to do with her…I sent me of me newsies to walk her home. She may be a Delancey, but she was still a goil and it ain't safe for a goil to be walkin' home alone at night. Me newsie never returned and Emily went missin'."

"The reason why the Delanceys hate the newsies so much," Floaty muttered.

Spot nodded, unshed tears of guilt began pooling in his eyes. "Vampire blamed me for her disappearance and he still does to dis day. He won't rest until I'm either humiliated, dead, or Emily is found."

"We'll find her; Spot….We'll find her." Floaty whispered as the doctor walked in. She heard Spot calling her name but she couldn't stay awake any longer. Her head hurt too badly.

_**(A/N: Hi guys, the sequel to this story will be up in a few days. :-))**_


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